


Date Escape

by Ketch22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad date, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel is dating Dean twice, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Dean Winchester's First Time With a Man, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Miscommunication, Oblivious Castiel/Dean Winchester, Online Dating, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Gabriel, Sexually Inexperienced Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, Texting, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Two Person Love Triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketch22/pseuds/Ketch22
Summary: Pressured by his brother Gabriel to get back out there, Castiel creates a dating profile. He meets a handsome, intelligent guy named Patrick and sets up a date with him - a date that goes so badly that he contemplates jumping out a window. Enter Dean, an even better looking stranger that happens to have the same idea.Or, the one where Cass is too oblivious to notice the hot guy he hooked up with at the bar is the same one he's been arguing with online.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Come on, Castiel. You can do this. It’s just _one_ little dating profile. Chances are, no one will even respond. You don’t even have to reply if they do, but you cannot spend one more Saturday night alone in this apartment hiding from your brother. You’re a grown man. Act like it.”

 

He stared at the blank dating profile for several long minutes after his pep talk, not having a clue what to put.

 

_Name? No, no… I’m not using my real name. It’s too unique, anyone could locate me. You’ll have to think of a screen name._

 

_Age and location? This is an easy question. What else?_

 

 _Hobbies?_ He drummed his fingers on the keyboard and clicked his tongue. _Does locking myself in my apartment and burying myself in documentaries count?_

 

 _Physical appearance… uhm… absolutely unruly hair… blue-ish eyes… decently tall. Yes, I’m sure that description will attract tons of potential suitors._ He sighed quietly at the woeful inadequacy of it, but the truth was that Castiel was fairly plain. He had no distinguishable marks, no tattoos or piercings, not even a freckle or birthmark to set him apart from the see of dark haired, blue-eyed white men approaching their mid-thirties.

 

_Interested in? World peace? Environmental conservation? The possibility of life on other planets, since humans seem content to destroy this one? Someone that won’t waste my time, perhaps. Preferably someone not hiding in the closet, though I’d hardly blame them in this area. I’d be interested in finding out if Anne Boleyn really slept with her brother, or if Henry VIII simply liked lopping people’s heads off. This is far too open-ended._

 

_Stop being ridiculous. Just fill it out. You can always update it later._

 

 **Name:** fallenangel34

 **Age:** 34

 **Location:** Montana

 **Occupation:** I don’t see what my occupation has to do with my chances of meeting a suitable partner.

 **What do you look like?:** I prefer to base compatibility on something deeper than physical appearance, but if you must know, I’m decently tall and have dark hair.

 **Interested In:** I have a vast number of hobbies, very few of which are ever deemed “interesting.”

 **Hobbies:** …. Please see the above answer, although now I’m starting to wonder if the previous question was asking something different. Perhaps you should be more specific. Inquire within.

His palm pressed almost painfully into his cheek as he read over the bare-bones profile he’d created. _It won’t get better than this._ He clicked submit, but frowned deeply when an error message popped up stating that he needed to choose a profile picture. He had one single self-photograph in his phone, which happened to be the headshot for his badge at the University of Montana, where he taught two courses. GRK 202 was an intermediate Greek language course, and GRK 300, which was focused on Greek writers such as Homer, lyric poets, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Plato, and Aristotle. He’d pointedly left that out of his dating profile, because if even one message said something like, “ _So, you’re a professor. Your classes sound interesting, but it’s all Greek to me!”_ with any sort of emoji whatsoever, he would swear off dating for the rest of his life.

 

Deciding against opening up that possibility, he chose a photograph of his last trip to Greece, which his friend and colleague Balthazar had taken. He was standing in front of the Temple of Olympian Zeus, or rather, what remained of it. Balthazar had been positioned several feet behind him at the time, so the photograph was of his back. _This will do, they won’t be able to see my face but it shows that I’m in peak physical condition and was not lying about having dark hair._

 

Once more, he clicked submit. This time, he was greeted with a confirmation message and access to the overwhelming amount of profiles available on this site. He took a deep breath, and accidentally swiped the wrong way three times before he finally got the hang of it. _Left for no, right for yes. It’s not rocket science, Castiel._

 

Left.

 

Left.

 

_Is there an option that’s even more ‘left’ than left?_

 

Left.

 

 _Oh!_ He stopped on a profile of a man with a strong jaw and dress shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. _Patrick, 36. Interested in volunteer work and hiking, in that order. He’s an environmental lawyer, and from the looks of things, he only lives one town over. He has potential._ Right.

 

On and on it went, until his eyes were growing blurry from staring at the screen and the never ending stream of singles that were obviously incapable of meeting anyone in real life.

 

_Stop it, you’re obviously one of those singles. It’s not fair to judge, perhaps they’re simply too busy to meet someone in person._

 

He shut his laptop and stood up, only remembering once he was nearly in the kitchen that he should probably download the application to his phone so he could actually receive messages. After a quick trip back to get it, he made it to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It was after 9 pm, but he still had a mountain of papers to grade and it was shaping up to be another sleepless night.

 

Once the coffee was poured and the Bumble app was successfully downloaded, he sat down to read over the latest essay he’d assigned. _Is it ridiculous that out of all of the gay dating apps available, you chose this one simply because it reminds you of bees? Yes, it’s probably insane, but there can’t be too much of a difference. They’re likely all the same, and all the men you’ll meet from it will probably be the same._

 

His phone buzzed and he answered it quickly. “Hello?”

 

“Cassie! Did ya do it, did ya do it?”

 

He grimaced at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Yes, Gabriel. The profile is created, and I even ‘swiped right’ a couple of times.”

 

A long pause. “Did you just do actual air quotes? On the phone, where no one could see you?”

 

Castiel lowered his phone to muffle the groan that escaped him. When he brought it back up to his ear, he said, “I don’t see why it matters, but yes.”

 

“Oh, brother. It’s gonna take a miracle to get you laid.”

 

He squinted at the table. “Did you call me simply to harass me, Gabriel? I have assignments to look over.”

 

His brother laughed, and it was a sound that put Castiel at ease even when the laughter was at his expense. “Sorry, Cassie. I just wanted to make sure you did it. Now send some messages! It won’t do you any good if you don’t use it.” Gabriel abruptly hung up just as Castiel started to respond, and he growled quietly as he set his phone down and refocused his attention to his job.

 

_This is going to be a trainwreck._

 

————————

 

_Buzz._

 

He looked at his phone and saw the Bumble icon next to a notification that read _6 new matches and 3 new messages!_

 

His eyes widened at the words, and he glanced at the analog clock hanging over his stove. It was half past two in the morning, and he’d only had the profile for roughly five hours. _3 messages already?_

 

He brushed his thumb across the screen to unlock it and clicked the notification. His message center opened up, and sure enough, three unread messages awaited him. He opened the first one.

 

 **PatcificOcean8:** _I’m not very good at this, but your profile intrigued me. What are some of those hobbies you think no one will find interesting? I bet mine are more obscure._

 

He clicked the link to the profile and his stomach flipped as he realized it was Patrick, the only person he’d swiped right on with any real interest. He returned to the message center and licked his lip as he considered his reply.

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _I enjoy documentaries, specifically those regarding bees and other endangered species. I also recently took up a pottery class and find it quite relaxing, it’s something I highly look forward to._

 

The second he sent the message, he mentally cursed himself for not adding any follow up questions. He hastily typed out another.

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _What made you choose your field?_

 

The top of the chat showed that Patrick hadn’t been online in a couple of hours, and Castiel assumed he was probably sleeping. He moved on to the next one.

 

 **Just4Kicks:** _I have to admit, I have no idea what’s in the background of your prof pic. I’ve been too busy staring at that gorgeous ass of yours. Meet up later?_

 

Cass rolled his eyes so heavily he’d fear his head would roll right off his shoulders if it weren’t attached so proficiently to his neck. _Delete. Next._

 

 **Impala67:** _Okay, okay. I gotta ask, your profile is a joke, right? You’re just fuckin’ with people? There’s no way a dude with permanent sex hair like yours is really this friggen awkward._

 

Cass hovered over the delete button as indignation and a slight tinge of embarrassment worked their way through his bones. This sort of response had been exactly what he’d feared. He changed his mind at the last second and clicked on the link to impala67’s profile. _Two can play at that game, if you want to make fun of me, let’s see how perfect_ **_you_ ** _are._

 

His profile picture was a car. Castiel knew next to nothing about vehicles beyond basic operation, but he took an educated guess at the fact that the car was a 1967 Chevrolet Impala based on the screen name. The jet black paint shone in the photo, and Cass couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. He didn’t remember swiping right on this particular profile, but he’d made a few mistakes at the beginning and assumed it must have been one of those. _An accident then, makes sense. Perhaps I shouldn’t let this cloud my judgment._

 

 **Name:** impala67

 **Age:** 28

 **Location:** Over the Hills and Far Away

 **Occupation:** Mechanic

 **What do you look like?:** If sunshine and sex took on human forms and had a baby, that’d be me.

 **Interested In:** Long walks on the beach and frisky… well, I’m not really all that picky.

 **Hobbies:** Road trips, classic cars, Led Zeppelin, pie and sex. Not necessarily in that order, but bonus points if you find ways to combine ‘em.

 

He blinked. He reread the words three times, because he couldn’t wrap his mind around someone being so blatantly conceited. He straightened in his chair and flipped back to the messages, some strange urge to defend himself overtaking the desire to just delete the message and move on.

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _I assure you, I’m not “fucking” with anyone, although I’m gathering that intercourse is the sole purpose of this dating site. If I’m awkward, you’re cocky and crass, which are two qualities I can’t say I look for in a partner. Have a good evening, impala67. Good luck in your future conquests._

 

He nodded proudly at himself and hit send, then set his phone down and rubbed his eyes. It really was getting late and his GRK 202 class started at 8am. He cleaned up the mess he’d made grading papers and packed his briefcase so it would be one less thing he had to deal with in the morning.

 

_Buzz._

 

His eyes flicked to his illuminated phone screen and he hesitated briefly before picking it up.

 

 **Impala67:** _Whoa, whoa… easy tiger. Didn’t mean to offend you, although it’s clear it doesn’t take much. Maybe that was my way of gettin’ you to open up. There’s no way someone as tense as you could handle someone as_ **_cocky_ ** _as me 😉_

 

His face flushed, and he’d typed out his irritated response before giving it much thought.

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _In my experience, those that brag about what they’ve got to offer typically don’t have much to offer at all._

 

 **Impala67:** _Ouch. Okay, now you’ve insulted my personality AND Little Impala. That’s two strikes, pal. What’s next, you gonna insult my Baby too?_

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _First of all, it concerns me that you’ve named your penis. Second, I wasn’t aware you were a father, and I would never insult a child simply because their father was… well, someone like you._

 

 **Impala67:** _I don’t even wanna know what that means, dude. But nah, Baby’s my car. Not a dad. Definitely not a dad. It’s cool if you are though, I mean… it doesn’t bug me or anything._

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _Oh, right. Of course. The car. It’s beautiful, and therefore above my reproach. It’s not the vehicle’s fault who it’s driver is._

 

 **Impala67:** _I’m gonna choose to ignore that last part, cuz you finally said somethin’ I can get on board with! We should celebrate this common ground over a couple of beers._

 

Cass huffed. _As if. He’s insufferable via text message, he’d be absolutely unbearable in person._

 

_And yet…_

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _Is that a flirtation?_

 

 **Impala67:** _Dude, are you even real? Yeah, I can’t figure out why the hell I’m still tryin’ to hit on your weird, boring ass… but I’ve done dumber shit. I’m not from around here, but your profile’s pinging you like 20 miles from me. Where’s a good place to take a guy out for a “congrats, you suck less than I thought” beer?_

 

 **Fallenangel34:** _Does insulting people usually work for you? And you could try Rocky’s, if you actually find someone to agree to go out with you. Which I’m not, by the way, although your nearly witty banter has been an eye-opener about the quality of matches I can expect to receive here. Once more, good luck._

 

He put his phone on silent and laid it face down on his bedside table before crawling under the covers and burying his face in his pillow.

 

_Yep, this is a trainwreck._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where someone actually manages to make Cass smile.

The next morning went about as well as Castiel had anticipated. He was groggy and sluggish as he pushed open the door to his classroom, briefcase and coffee in hand. He’d received messages from both Patrick and impala67 overnight, but hadn’t bothered reading either one of them yet. He settled in at his desk and went over his notes for the day’s class, which was on conflict resolution vocabulary. 

 

His students slowly meandered their way into their seats, and Castiel cleared his throat.  “Kaliméra táxi. Anoíxte ta vivlía sas sti selída saránta tría.” A few murmured good morning in return, and all of them pulled their books out and turned to page forty-three as instructed. 

 

Cass tasked them with reading over the chapter and compiling any questions they might have, then passed out the essays he’d graded the previous evening and sat down at his desk. He double-checked to make sure the students were busy reading and then pulled out his phone. 

 

**PatcificOcean7:** _ What type of bees? Honey bees, bumblebees, worker bees? What about wasps and hornets and the other stingered cousins? I don’t know much about any of them, but I’m sure you could teach me!  _

 

**PatcificOcean7:** _ Also, I chose environmental law because it’s important to me. I love the earth and I think it’s important we do what we can to protect it, and I’ve seen to many instances of big businesses taking advantage of loopholes to ignore it. So, I decided to do something about it. What do you do for a living? Your profile is scant on details.  _

 

**Fallenangel34:** _ It appears we have a lot in common. I’m a professor at the University of Montana, actually. I teach Greek to glorified continental eskimos. It’s a very small class.  _

 

**PatcificOcean7:** _ You should tell me about it over dinner. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the Hellenistic philosophers.  _

 

Cass’s stomach filled with something akin to butterflies, but it was such a foreign feeling that it was almost unreal. 

 

**Fallenangel34:** _ How about Rocky’s Bar and Grille, this weekend? Perhaps Saturday at 7PM? _

 

Cass fidgeted with the pens on his desk and bounced his knee as he waited for Patrick’s reply. He didn’t expect to be this nervous,  _ or  _ this forward, but Patrick seemed almost too good to be true. Not to mention, if he looked half as attractive as his profile picture suggested, he could definitely do worse. 

 

After an agonizingly long pause, his phone vibrated in his hand. 

 

**PatcificOcean7:** _ It’s a date. See you then! ☺️ _

 

Castiel very nearly cracked a smile at his phone and then quickly glanced up to make sure none of his students noticed. The last thing he needed was one of them grilling him and having to admit he’d just agreed to go on a date with a virtual stranger. He’d almost completely forgotten that impala67 had messaged him as well, but he let out a tiny, exasperated sigh and opened it up. 

 

**Impala67:** _ Aww, c’mon, Angel. Don’t be like that. Tell me about your hobbies.  _

 

He tilted his head at the nickname, and it was that alone that spurred him to respond. It wasn’t much, and in fact, the only effort he put into it was to go back into his messages with Patrick and copy/paste what he’d told him about his hobbies. 

 

**Fallenangel34:** _ I enjoy documentaries, specifically those regarding bees and other endangered species. I also recently took up a pottery class and find it quite relaxing, it’s something I highly look forward to.  _

 

He put his phone down and refocused his attention on his class, not expecting to get a response from impala67. It was already blatantly clear they weren’t compatible, and he knew he wouldn’t get the same type of response from him that he’d received from Patrick. 

 

He was midway through a lecture about common mistakes in translating sentence structure and how it could lead to misconceptions when his entire desk vibrated behind him. 

 

_ Buzz.  _ He ignored it. 

 

_ Buzz.  _ His eyes flicked to his phone, but still, he ignored it. 

 

_ Buzz.  _ “Oh, for… please excuse me, class. This must be my brother, let me just confirm it’s not an emergency.” 

 

Two of the students in the front row exchanged glances, but Castiel was practically a king at ignoring things at this point. He picked up his phone and saw five messages in total - and not from Gabriel, as he’d thought - but from impala67. 

 

**Impala67:** _ So what you’re sayin’ is… you’re good with your hands 😏 _

 

**Impala67:** _ Wait wait, I forgot you get uptight about that kinda shit. Forget I said it.  _

 

**Impala 67:** _ Aww fuck it, don’t forget I said it. I meant it, and even if you suck at it, I bet your hands are smooth as hell. Mine are all rough calluses and blisters from workin’ on cars all day, I bet yours would feel fuckin awes _

 

**Impala67:** _ Shit, accidentally hit send before I could erase that. Uhh… sorry. Y’know what, just pretend the last like… 17 msgs didn’t happen, ok? Lemme start over.  _

 

**Impala67:** _ Bees, huh? Tell me about ‘em.  _

 

Cass was grinning from ear to ear by the last message. He looked up from his phone to see every pair of eyes in the room wide and fixed right on him. He blushed, actually blushed, and quickly pocketed his phone as he cleared his throat and dropped his smile. 

 

“Not an emergency then, eh?” 

 

Cass wondered if that was his dignity that he felt shrivel up and die inside of him, or if it was just indigestion. “No, it wasn’t an emergency.” 

 

“Seven months I’ve been taking your class, Professor Novak, and not for nothing but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile. At all. For any reason. Did you win the lottery or something?” The girl who spoke from the front row looked genuinely surprised, and Cass was desperate to get this class back on the right track. 

 

“Greek, Ms. Aberdeen. We speak Greek in this classroom.” 

 

She opened her mouth as if to point out the fact that Castiel had  _ also  _ been speaking in English but abruptly shut her mouth. He pondered her words, and couldn’t for the life of him figure out how impala67 was the one that actually made him smile like that. 

 

Flustered impala67 was decidedly more tolerable than conceited impala67. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, the next two are much longer. Let me know what you think, and see you Friday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally date night!

Saturday night came too soon and not soon enough. He’d spent the week having periodic conversations with both Patrick and impala67, and thankfully, the latter had finally quit trying to ask him out. He wasn’t even quite sure why he was still talking to him if there was no potential for it to turn into something more, but every time he’d think about blocking him or ending the conversation, something would be said that would pull him back in. It was curious and infuriating, but it was - at the very least - a way to practice socializing so perhaps he wouldn’t fall flat on his face during his date with Patrick. 

 

He dressed simply; Rocky’s was a nice establishment but nothing to go overboard about. He chose blue jeans and a dark grey dress shirt under a sherpa lined zip up. It wasn’t terribly cold for March, the low was supposed to be in the upper thirties and at least it wasn’t supposed to snow. He debated between driving himself to Rocky’s and calling a cab, and decided in the end it was better to let someone else chauffeur him just in case he had a few too many drinks. He wasn’t anticipating sex, this was a first date with a respectable man and Cass had never had sex on a first date in his life. He had no intentions to start now. 

 

He arrived at Rocky’s and paid the cab driver before walking inside. Out of instinct, he wiped his boots on the entrance rug and scanned the room. He didn’t see Patrick yet, but Castiel was habitually early and this had been no exception. He sat down at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic, and asked the bartender to have a table prepared for when his date arrived. 

 

He was nearly through his first drink when he heard someone approach him. 

 

“Fallen angel 34?” 

 

He turned and smiled widely at Patrick, who looked even better than his profile picture had suggested. He nodded and extended his hand. “I suppose you should call me Castiel. It’s nice to meet you, Patrick.” 

 

Patrick’s easy smile made Castiel wonder what on earth had taken him so long to start dating again. He was slightly disappointed when Patrick’s hand turned out to be every bit as soft as his own, but he refused to acknowledge the fact that it was likely due to impala67’s comment about rough ones. The hostess glanced over at them and grabbed two menus, then led them to a booth by the door. 

 

They barely had time to take off their coats before their waitress arrived to introduce herself and take their drink orders. Cass smiled at her, a warmth settling in his chest at the fact that he’d done it - he was  _ actually  _ on a date, on a Saturday night, with a handsome and successful man. He squirmed proudly in his seat and turned his gaze to Patrick when the waitress disappeared. 

 

“So, I’m assuming you can’t tell me a lot about your work due to confidentiality clauses, so what  _ can  _ you tell me about yourself that I don’t already know?” 

 

Patrick looked up from his menu. “Well, you know the basics. I live here in town. Actually, I still live in my childhood home, so that’s kind of cool. I travel a lot for work, as it turns out, there aren’t many cases that fit my particular skill set in Missoula.” 

 

_ Childhood home?  _ “You’re right, that is interesting. Did you buy the place from your parents?” The waitress chose that point to bring their drinks over and take their dinner orders, and for that, he was grateful. 

 

After she departed, Patrick continued. “So, you were asking if I bought my home from my parents. They actually divorced years ago, but my mom still lives there.” 

 

_ Um.  _ “Wait… your mom still lives there? And… you live there? With her? With… your mother?” 

 

Patrick nodded, not seeming to grasp Castiel’s change in demeanor from warm and welcoming to waving red flags.  _ Okay, maybe she’s ill. Perhaps the divorce left her destitute and he’s supporting her. There are plenty of reasons a grown man would still live with his mother, don’t panic.  _

 

“I bet that has its challenges.” Patrick didn’t answer, so Castiel pressed on, hoping this was a decent way to get to the truth of the matter without outright asking why he still lives at home. “So, is it? Challenging, I mean.”

 

Patrick took a long sip of his drink and shook his head. “No, not at all. I love it, my mom’s my best friend.” 

 

The conversation stalled into a silence that was only slightly uncomfortable. Here or there, one of them would offer a tidbit about themselves or comment on the drinks, the weather, or really any topic that would fit more under the category of small talk than actual date-like topics of conversation. Castiel was struggling to change the subject when Patrick made yet another comment about his mother. 

 

_ He’s a lawyer. He’s attractive. You share similar interests.  _ **_Try._ ** He smiled, although it was more forced than natural. “Family is important, I’m glad you’re close with your mother.” 

 

“Speaking of which, I should call her.” He began rifling through his jacket, and Cass squinted at him. 

  
“What - what do you mean, ‘call her’? Right now?” 

 

Patrick looked over the table at him as he freed his phone from his jacket pocket. “Yeah, you know. She worries about me when I go out with someone new, I should just check in to let her know that I’m okay. It’ll only take a minute.” 

 

Cass watched in barely concealed horror as Patrick actually started dialing a number on his phone. He cleared his throat and stood up too quickly. “I’m going to use the restroom, I’ll be back in a moment.” He attempted a smile, but this one was  _ so  _ forced that his cheeks physically protested the effort it took to pull it off. 

 

Patrick didn’t seem to notice, so Cass took off towards the restroom. It was just his luck that these were single restrooms and not ones with multiple stalls, but there was thankfully no one in the mens room at the time so he ducked inside and closed the door behind him. He pressed his back against the solid frame and gently banged his head against the door with his eyes closed.  _ Of course, you find a handsome, successful man and he turns out to be a momma’s boy to the point where it sounds like she’d be an active, literal part of any relationship we’d begin. This was a mistake. Online dating was a mistake. You shouldn’t have even tried.  _

 

He opened his eyes and noticed the window that looked  _ just  _ large enough to fit a grown man. He licked his lip and walked over to it, jimmying it open with a groan and a squeak. He climbed up carefully onto the sink and stuck his head out, gauging the distance to the ground. It was far enough that the fall would likely sting, but he doubted he’d be seriously injured unless he somehow lost his balance on the way out and landed on his head. 

 

He realized with a jolt that his jacket was still in the booth with Patrick. He patted himself down and was pleased to find his wallet, phone and keys in his jeans pocket.  _ Okay, you can replace the jacket. Or, you can just walk back out there and retrieve it, tell him politely that you need to go, and then just… leave. Like a normal person, not someone crazy enough to leap out of a window simply to avoid an awkward encounter.  _

 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone knocked on the door. “Just a minute!” 

 

“C’mon, you’ve been in there forever! You shoulda shit before you left the house.” 

 

That all-too familiar rush of indignation surged through him. He opened the door and glared at the man on the other side. “I wasn’t even using the facilities, thank you very much, I was contemplating jumping out of a window.” 

 

Something like surprise flashed across the greenest eyes Castiel had ever seen. The man looked to his left briefly, and then yes… it was definitely surprise on his face right before he pushed Castiel backward into the bathroom and slammed the door. 

 

“Shit, fuck… oh uh… hi. You wanna jump out a window? Let’s do it, that one looks big enough.” 

 

The stranger pushed past Castiel, who was frozen in shock, and lifted his knee up onto the sink to test its durability. 

 

Castiel finally found his voice. “It’s not high enough to kill yourself.” 

 

The man stopped and turned his head back to Castiel, awkwardly straddling the sink. The way his jeans stretched tight from the movement showed off his ass in a way that was making it difficult to concentrate on the words coming out of his mouth. “Dude, what? No, I’m runnin’ from a date. Wait a minute, were  _ you  _ trying to kill yourself?!” 

 

His face flushed. “Of course not. It seems we had the same idea, it turns out my extremely handsome date is obsessed with his mother.” He flicked his eyes towards the door and then back to the stranger. “Screw it, go. I’ll follow you out.” 

 

The most contagious grin Castiel had ever seen spread across the man’s face, and any doubts he had suddenly vanished. He disappeared through the window with a soft thump, and then Castiel followed quickly, ignoring the raging sound of his own heartbeat. 

 

He landed awkwardly, but the stranger helped him up. “So uh… couldn’t help but notice you said ‘his,’ not ‘her.’” 

 

“Yes, I’m gay, congratulations on learning the worst-kept secret in the history of secrets.” Castiel quickly scanned the area around them to get his bearings and saw Patrick walking across the parking lot. “Shit, shit… that’s my date.” 

 

His escape partner jerked his head in that direction. “Whoa, wait…  _ that’s  _ your date? He’s hot… like hot enough I don’t care how into his momma he is as long as she ain’t in bed with us.” He turned his face back towards Castiel with a mile-wide grin that somehow conveyed ‘I’m kidding, but also maybe not kidding.’ 

 

Cass flattened himself against the wall in an attempt to hide in the shadows. It was already well past sunset so his efforts were unnecessary, but he’d hoped he’d be able to wait until Patrick left and sneak inside to retrieve his jacket. 

 

That, like so many other plans, went awry at record speed. Patrick turned precisely in their direction, and then rough hands were grabbing him and pulling him towards the back of the bar. 

 

“C’mon, my car’s out back. Let’s ditch this joint!” 

 

If Castiel had been thinking rationally, he would not have gotten in the car with the strange man. But as it happened, he wasn’t thinking rationally at all.  He allowed himself to be pulled at a run to the rear parking lot, and he didn’t give it a moment’s thought as he climbed clumsily into the passenger seat. 

 

The stranger noticed someone, presumably his own failed date, come out the back door of the bar and he ducked down until his head was resting in Castiel’s lap. 

 

His stomach flipped and he was suddenly acutely aware of all of the parts of his body that were sweating from the adrenaline and jump. He laughed at the terrified look on the man’s face, and it was a deep, full on belly laugh - the kind Castiel hadn’t been able to muster in years. “You’re ridiculous, drive!” He pushed the man back up into a sitting position, and thankfully he took the hint and started the car. 

 

Both of their dates were standing bewildered at the entrance as they drove off, Rock of Ages blaring through the speakers. 

 

Tires squealed as the car sharply turned onto the main road, and Castiel turned in the seat to watch the bar disappear.

 

For a few moments, they drove in silence. Castiel eventually sat normally again and his laughter finally died out, but that left room for the weight of crushing reality to come back down upon his shoulders.  _ You’re in car. With a stranger. Which would be fine, but this isn’t a taxi. You know nothing about him, he could be a serial killer.  _ He slowly inched his hand towards his pocket in an effort to reach his cell phone. 

 

The stranger looked over at him, all twinkling eyes and toothy smile. “So uhh… hi. I’m Dean.” 

 

Cass swallowed and closed his hand around his phone. “I have 911 on speed dial.” 

 

That toothy grin vanished. “Whoa - hey, hey, hey - no need to call the cops, man, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Dean kept one hand firmly on the steering wheel and held the other up in the air. “Let’s just take a breather, okay? There’s a bar up the road a ways, I’ll stop there and let you out and you can get a cab or whatever.” 

 

Cass nodded appreciatively. “Yes, that would be best.” 

 

Dean looked like he was about to say something else but obviously thought better of it. A couple of too-short, not-long-enough minutes later, they pulled into a dive bar. 

 

Dean shut off the car and dropped his keys onto his lap as he put both of his hands in the air. He smirked, but it was laced with nervousness that not even Castiel was oblivious enough to miss. “See? Safely delivered. Can I at least know your name though? I gotta say, this is the most fun I’ve had on a date in years.” 

 

Cass blinked.  _ Is this a date? It’s certainly wasn’t planned, but I sort of was having fun.  _ “My name is Castiel, but most everyone just refers to me as Cass.” 

 

The change in Dean’s facial expression was, in a word, beautiful. Like this single admittance meant something to him, like somehow it mattered that Cass trusted him enough to tell him his name. He didn’t even seem confused or startled by the abnormality of it. Suddenly, Cass found himself searching for more ways to make him smile like that. 

 

“Well, Cass… thank you for saving my Saturday night. I got fuckin’ catfished back there, that ever happened to you?” 

 

He frowned. “Cat… fished?” 

 

“Yeah, when someone says they’re one thing online to get people to talk to ‘em but in real life they’re totally different? You saw my date, put two and two together.” 

 

Come to think of it, the man really hadn’t been very attractive. It wasn’t something Castiel normally paid attention to, but it had struck him as odd that someone like Dean would be out on a date with someone like him. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was rude of him.” 

 

Dean’s eyes traveled down the parts of Cass’s body he could see in the neon light shining through the windshield. “Nah, don’t be sorry. Sometimes things just kinda have a way of workin’ out.” 

 

Cass cleared his throat and squirmed in the seat. “Right, I should… call a cab.” 

 

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “Guess you should, huh?” 

 

_ He’s insanely good-looking, Castiel. He’s funny and charming and daring… don’t do what you always do. Don’t just leave, ask him to stay.  _ **_Tell_ ** _ him to stay. Don’t let this slip through your fingers.  _ “You could… stay for a drink, if you’d like. Even if I call now, it’ll still take some time for the cab to reach me out here. I was going to wait inside.” 

 

Dean’s shoulders relaxed and Castiel was once again gifted with that earth-shattering, contagious, beautiful grin. “Yeah, alright. First round’s on me.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a super long, super smutty chapter.

They barely had time to order their drinks before his phone was buzzing in his pocket. He rolled his eyes as he pulled it out, knowing that no matter who was responsible for the interruption, it wouldn’t be worth it. 

 

**PatcificOcean7:** _ You forgot your jacket at the bar, was there some sort of an emergency? Was that man your brother?  _

 

Cass audibly snorted with laughter, but shook his head quickly at the questioning look on Dean’s face. 

 

**Fallenangel34:** _ He’s definitely not my brother, and I apologize for not saying this in person, but it won’t work out between us. I realize you would have had to pay for dinner, so keep the jacket as my half of the payment. Have a good evening, Patrick. Tell your mother I said hello.  _

 

Cass chuckled to himself and quickly pressed ignore on two other messages he’d received during that, and noticed that impala67 wasn’t one of them.  _ Good, perhaps he finally found someone else to harass.  _

 

Dean watched him as he drank, and Castiel realized he was being entirely rude. He pocketed his phone and wrapped both hands around his drink. “I’m sorry about that, I left my jacket at the restaurant and I believe my date was going to try and use it as a way to see me again, so I advised him to keep it as my share of the dinner bill.” 

 

Dean threw his head back and laughed, and it exposed his neck in ways that had Cass’s mind wandering. “Dude, that’s intense. You really hated the guy  _ that  _ much?” 

 

“I didn’t  _ hate  _ him, I just didn’t relish the idea of being in a relationship with him  _ and  _ his mother, that’s all. It was just a jacket.” 

 

Dean drank heavily, his lips curling into a smile even around the heavy glass. “Well, I can tell ya you won’t have to worry about that with me. My mom’s been dead since I was a kid.” 

 

“Oh, Dean. I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 

 

“No, shit, Cass. Don’t - don’t get weird about it. It was a long ass time ago, I barely even remember her.” He drank again and then nudged Cass with his elbow. “But at least you know I won’t be callin’ her in the middle of our date.” 

 

Cass took the out, accepting that Dean didn’t want to speak about it further. “Is that what this is now? A date?” 

 

Dean’s eyes flicked down to Cass’s lips and he licked his own. “We ate at the same place, we laughed… we’re drinkin’ together now. I’m hot, you’re hot… yeah, I’d say it’s a date.”

 

Cass’s stomach searched for a new home pretty much anywhere in his body that  _ wasn’t  _ where it actually belonged, which just felt like his insides were on a roller coaster and he was simply along for the ride. He nodded, but it was such a shallow movement that he wasn’t sure it would even register in the faded light. “Perhaps you were right, then. Things have a way of working themselves out.” 

 

Dean chuckled. “Call me Tyrion fuckin’ Lannister - I drink and I know things.” He drained the remainder of his whiskey and winked at Cass like that was some sort of a joke he should get.

 

“I’m sorry… was he a philosopher?” 

 

All he received as a response was a startled blink. 

 

“Uhm…” Cass continued. “Some sort of knowledgeable alcoholic?” 

 

Another blink, then, “Dude, you don’t watch Game of Thrones? What kinda nerd -” 

 

“What makes you think I’m a nerd?” Cass interrupted. 

 

“Aww c’mon, man. You’re about the dorkiest guy I’ve ever seen, the hair excluded.” 

 

Cass’s hand went up to his hair and attempted to flatten it down. Dean reached up and pulled his hand away, shaking his head. “No, no, leave it. It’s… hell, it’s hot. Gives a guy all  _ sorts  _ of ideas.” 

 

The butterflies housed in his stomach were reacting as though they’d suddenly scented some sort of lepidoptera n catnip. “Ideas?” 

 

Dean nodded. “Uh huh. Let me show you.” 

 

Cass already knew that all sensibility went out the window when it came to Dean. Perhaps it was the added ambiance of the low lights, the smoke-filled bar, and the ballad smoothly cascading out of the jukebox in the corner, but nothing on planet Earth could have compelled Castiel to stop Dean from kissing him in that moment. Castiel leaned forward just enough to signal consent, and Dean pounced. 

  
If, that is, pounced was actually an adequate verb for what happened. It was soft and tentative, the way Dean’s lips first met Castiel’s. Like he was tasting some sort of delicacy only available in limited quantities. Slow, measured brushes of pink, careful lips. The scent of him filled Castiel’s nostrils - whiskey and leather, grease and something… decidedly sweeter. It was entirely possessive and utterly consuming. 

 

But mere heartbeats in, the kiss changed. Dean’s hand carded in Castiel’s hair and tipped his head back, and a hot, wet tongue glided over his bottom lip. Cass sighed quietly as he opened for Dean, and the world around him melted away. He was no longer awkward and abrasive, but sure and welcoming as the temporary shock abated and he became a more active participant in the best kiss of his life. 

 

They ignored the sound of the bartender clearing his throat, but it  _ did  _ break the mood enough that Castiel started to come back to his senses. “Dean, you should know…” he tipped their foreheads together and sucked in a slow, steadying breath, “I don’t have intercourse on the first date.” 

 

Dean chuckled and pulled back, plastering on an almost-not-even-close-to-innocent smirk. “Date? Who said anything about a date?”

 

He tilted his head. “You did.” 

 

“Pshh, don’t listen to me, I’m a moron. Dunno what I’m talkin’ about.” Dean’s smile was the last thing he saw before their lips met again, and Castiel’s resolve packed its bags and took a permanent vacation. 

 

“Maybe just this once.” 

 

Dean pulled back and spoke quietly, his face the very picture of contentment. “Then let’s get outta here, yeah?” 

 

Cass nodded before his brain could fully process the implications of that question. He followed Dean out of the bar and back into the car, but this time he was much more relaxed. His head was fuzzy with alcohol, but it wasn’t enough that he feared his judgment was clouded - he was quite sure that sober or not, he’d want Dean. The alcohol simply removed any hesitation or awkwardness, and he sent up a silent thank you to the person that figured out how to distill it. 

 

Not five minutes later, they were pulling into a hotel. Cass glanced curiously at Dean, but he just shrugged. “Guess I didn’t mention I’m not from around here, huh? I’m just visiting.” 

 

Cass didn’t know why anyone would choose to visit Montana, but his first assumption was that he must know someone that attended the university. It wasn’t something Cass wanted to examine too closely either way. 

 

“That’s quite alright, although if I’d have known, we could have simply gone back to my place. This will be fine.” 

 

_ Yes, this will be fine - as if you’re  _ **_not_ ** _ breaking every single rule you’ve ever set for yourself. You should get out of the car and call a cab and just go home, this has bad news written all over it.  _

 

Dean clicked his tongue with a wink and got out of the car, and Cass followed. He wished his legs would stop wildly disobeying him, but they seemed to be eager to follow Dean to the ends of the very Earth. 

 

They stepped inside Dean’s hotel room and Cass shivered; the night had gotten colder and even that short amount of time outside without his jacket was chilling his bones. He didn’t have to wait long to warm up, because the second the door was closed, Dean was on him again. 

 

This time, pounce was  _ definitely  _ the word. Hands deftly unbuttoned his shirt and firm lips claimed his again, and he was quickly being dragged under a tide of sheer, insatiable lust. 

 

“Dean...” 

 

Castiel’s brain was still trying to catch up to what was happening, but it was a sluggish, half-hearted affair that faltered entirely each time Dean’s hands moved over his body. 

 

“Don’t, Cass. Don’t - don’t ask me to stop. Just…” Dean’s perfect, hot mouth found its way to Castiel’s neck and his entire body responded to a tongue sweeping across his skin and the teeth that were undoubtedly leaving marks. 

 

His back pressed up against the wall, seeking out any sort of support as his knees threatened to give out from anticipation alone. Hands fumbled to remove shirts with quick, hasty movements that reeked of mutual need and desperation. Heaving, lust-drunk breaths filled the silence of the hotel room until they paused their efforts to undress each other to admire their handiwork. 

 

Dean was…  _ exquisite.  _ There was no other word for it. Castiel had already known Dean was in a league of his own just from the combination of eyes that ballads were written about and a jaw that could bring a grown man to his knees, but to see him like this? Pupils blown and tanned skin flushed from heat certainly not caused by the weather? It was nearly too much, and he was still clothed from the waist down. Cass stepped forward and ran his fingertips down gorgeous, scarred skin, drinking in the sight until his desire to see the rest of Dean overtook his patience. 

 

His hands moved to Dean’s belt, but he was stopped by the realization that Dean was no longer touching him. He was standing still, barely moving, barely breathing - and when Cass pulled his eyes back up to his face, he looked… scared. 

 

Cass immediately pulled his hands back and took a half-step away. “Did I do something wrong? I assure you, Dean, I won’t touch you unless you ask me to. I wouldn’t hurt you.” It struck him as odd in that moment that  _ he  _ was the one giving that speech when just a few hours ago he’d threatened to call the police on Dean. “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on in your mind.” 

 

Dean swallowed, and Cass couldn’t stop himself from wondering how that movement would feel around his cock.  _ Stop it, he’s clearly terrified of you. Nothing like that will happen here, get it out of your mind. Do what you can to put him at ease and then call a cab and go home, you can deal with your erection later. Focus.  _

 

“I’ve… I’ve never done this before. It ain’t like I haven’t wanted to, but uh… never worked up the courage to try.” Dean’s cheeks flushed and his tongue laved over his kiss-swollen bottom lip. Cass had to close his eyes to even have a chance at focusing his thoughts. 

 

“And by this you mean…?” 

 

“Sex, y’know… with a... “ 

 

“With a man.” 

 

Silence met his statement for long enough that Castiel spoke again. “I should go.” 

 

“No!” Dean’s disagreement was forceful enough that Cass opened his eyes again as Dean fumbled with his words. “No, I want -  _ shit,  _ I’ve always been trash at this stuff… I wanna do it, okay? Want…” his eyes traveled down Cass’s half-naked body, which was all hard lines and cold-perked nipples. His face was rapidly turning the most endearing shade of red Castiel had ever seen. “Want you to fuck me. If… if you wanna, that is.” 

 

Castiel cocked his head to the side and studied Dean, wondering how on earth the man from the restaurant and bar had turned into this shy, tentative little thing. If anything, it only made Castiel want him more. He took slow steps forward until he was crowding Dean’s space - close enough that he heard the hitch in his breath as Cass’s hand came up to his neck. 

 

“First times can be horrible things if not done with the right sort of person. While it would be best if you waited until you find someone you truly cared about, I think I can - I think I can give you what you need. Let me take care of you, Dean.” Dean gave a stuttered half-nod, and Castiel brought his other hand to Dean’s face and kissed him deeply. Not the fevered, desperate movements from before, but much more akin to their first kiss at the bar. Exploratory and savoring, a kiss that Castiel hoped conveyed  _ I’ll give you everything, just trust me.  _

 

Cass’s mind was eight steps ahead of his lips, thinking of all the things they’d need or complications that could arise. His overwhelming need to help people was very nearly turning this from something incredibly sexual to something nurturing, but that wasn’t necessarily a deal breaker for him. His own first time was a story he dreaded thinking about, and he was determined to give Dean a better experience. He pulled back to brush a kiss against Dean’s cheek. “Did you prepare? As in, did you purchase condoms or lube?” 

 

Dean nodded, his fingertips digging into Cass’s hips. “Yeah, it’s uhhh… they’re in the drawer by the bed.” 

 

Cass smiled and took Dean’s hands, pulling him towards the bed. “We won’t need them for a little while, I simply wanted to make sure we wouldn’t need to stop. Nothing ruins an experience like poor planning.” 

 

Dean huffed a nervous laugh, and Cass kissed him again to swallow the sound of it. He slowly maneuvered them so Castiel was lying on his back on the bed and Dean was hovering over him.  _ Guide him, but let him control things until he tells you otherwise. Let him figure out how much he’s willing to give or how much he wants to take. Let him set the pace.  _

 

Dean seemed to get the hint, because Castiel felt him relax above him and Dean’s mouth found his again. Castiel didn’t think he’d ever spent so much time kissing someone else, and certainly hadn’t expected it from a one-night stand, but it was… nice, and  _ not  _ just because Dean was so hot it shouldn’t be allowed by nature. 

 

For several long minutes, that’s all it was. Heated kisses and erection-strained jeans, the friction tantalizing but not near enough. Cass was nearly going out of his mind with the desire to flip Dean over and strip him bare, but he remembered his promise to himself. 

 

Thankfully, Dean was thinking the same thing, or at least something similar enough that things changed. His hand suddenly ended up on Castiel’s crotch, and he bucked his hips in an almost painful urge to relieve some of the pressure. He forced himself to still after the first one.  _ Let. Him. Lead. Chances are good he’s never touched a cock other than his own. Let him do this on his own terms.  _

 

He didn’t have to wait long. Dean leaned back and deftly undid Cass’s belt and jeans, and after briefly hesitating with the fabric fisted in his hands, Cass’s straining cock was freed with a gasp. His hand wrapped around it and he looked up at Dean, watching his reaction. Cass wasn’t  _ huge,  _ but he was definitely endowed enough that he’d actually had more than one partner refuse to let him actually fuck them. Dean’s eyes fixed on the rock hard member in Castiel’s hand and he hesitantly reached out for it. Cass moved his own hand away to make room for Dean’s, and the first contact of rough skin to smooth sent a jolt through his body that actually made him twitch. 

 

Dean grinned, seemingly pleased with the way he was already affecting Castiel. It wasn’t saying much, they’d been making out for what seemed like hours and he was already incredibly sensitive. Dean’s name rolled off his tongue in a wrecked growl, and it had exactly the effect Castiel had been hoping for. He knew his voice was a turn-on, it was at least a full octave lower than most and took on an absolutely sinful quality when he was aroused - and at that moment, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been more aroused in his life. 

 

Dean shuddered at the sound and then something inside of both of them snapped. Dean muttered a plea and Cass obliged, kicking his jeans and boxer briefs off the rest of the way before wrapping his arms around Dean and flipping them. Dean’s back hit the bed and Cass moved, hands and lips laving over chiseled muscle and scarred flesh. He kneeled between Dean’s legs and went to work, gently but hurriedly removing the last pieces of clothing from Dean’s body. 

 

The sight punched the breath from his lungs. Castiel had been teaching various Greek courses at the University of Montana for the last six years, and in all of the studies he’d done or lessons he’d taught, he’d never seen a Greek god that came even close to being as utterly perfect as Dean. He took a moment to drink it in. Tousled hair the color of honeyed whiskey, green irises nearly eclipsed by blown pupils. A barely-there five o’clock shadow accentuating g0d-sculpted cheeks and a jaw that he’d already spent too much time thinking about. A strong, thick neck extending down to broad, muscled shoulders. Freckles dusting every inch of skin, muted in the low light of the room but probably brilliantly noticeable in the summer sun. A chest that was almost frighteningly welcoming with its defined lines and perky nipples. Abs v-lining to hips that begged for attention, and - 

 

Cass sucked in a breath when he finally,  _ finally  _ allowed himself to look further down.  _ Penises have no right to look this… pretty. Holy shit.  _ His visual cataloguing of Dean’s body was brought to a sudden stop, because it was time to finally take what was in front of him. The mere sight of Dean was enough to make something deep inside of Castiel ache, but he had a feeling it had more to do with the knowledge that he’d never see Dean again after that night than it did anything else. 

 

He did the only sensible thing he could think of, and looked Dean straight in his too-green eyes as he took Dean’s insanely enticing cock into his mouth. Dean gasped and his back arched off the bed at that first real contact, and sent satisfaction and desperation to recreate the reaction shooting down Cass’s spine in equal measure. His tongue swept over the underside of Dean’s slick tip and he was rewarded with the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Emboldened and no longer worried about whether Dean’s hesitantly given consent had been false, he worked his hand and mouth together and closed his eyes in reverence as he savored the way Dean’s cock felt against the roof of his mouth. It was thick and veiny, and Castiel was probably one of few people that actually enjoyed giving blowjobs more than he liked receiving them. He relished the way his jaw and lips stretched with the effort and each of his taste buds was gifted with sinful curves and veiny bumps as he sucked him deeper and deeper, moaning from the taste of precum dripping on the back of his throat. This,  _ this  _ was his favorite part - the moment he expanded his throat and pushed his own limits, a symphony of desperately satisfied moans filling his ears and a warm, pulsing cock cutting off his air supply. 

 

Dean’s hand fisted in Cass’s hair and he thrust up, causing Cass to stretch a smile around him. He allowed Dean to fuck his mouth until a growl escaped his lips, and Cass took back control. He pulled off and chuckled at Dean’s labored breathing as he began kissing and nipping at the inside of Dean’s thighs. “You’re beautiful, do you know that? Your body is incredibly responsive, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.” 

 

Dean whined, but the sound was more frustrated than pleased. Cass flattened himself against the mattress between Dean’s legs and sucked on his balls as he guided a single finger into Dean’s mouth. He was met with slight resistance at first, but his other hand massaged and kneaded his skin and Dean eventually opened for him, spit-slicking the digit enough that Cass pulled it back and rubbed a steady circle over his hole. Dean gasped but spread his legs further, so Cass pressed in, muttering a string of entirely deserved praises as he buried his finger to the second knuckle. He held there as Dean adjusted, and then set on a course of oral distraction as he began to work him open. His own cock pulsed between his belly and the mattress, leaking and forgotten, but Castiel barely noticed as Dean relaxed enough that Cass added a second finger. 

 

“Perfect, Dean. You’re so, so good, so welcoming.” He peppered wet, sloppy kisses over Dean’s hips as he pumped his fingers, scissoring them and twisting until Dean was ready for a third. He took this opportunity to remind Dean they needed lube, and a moment later Dean was pulling the bottle from the bedside table and handing it to him. He popped the cap with his free hand and pulled his fingers nearly all the way out, coating them and rubbing the cool liquid over them until it warmed up slightly and Cass was sure they were slick enough that three wouldn’t hurt him. He slid them back in and punched a moan from Dean’s chest, and he once again paused to let him adjust. Cass leaned up and brought his lips to Dean as he fingered him faster, swallowing each and every gasp and pleading moan that came from the man. 

 

“Fuck, uhhn, fuck, Cass - please! Please, need -” Dean squeezed his eyes shut and bit back the rest of his comment. 

 

“It’s okay, Dean. I told you I was going to take good care of you. Will you let me? Just for tonight, will you let someone take care of you? Will you give me the gift of allowing it to be me?” He kissed Dean’s nose and cheeks and made his way down to his jaw, and Dean nodded not unlike a bobblehead. 

 

“Yeah, fuck - yeah, I can - shit,  _ please!”  _

 

Cass felt the goosebumps rise on Dean’s skin and he kissed each one of those, too, before kneeling up and pulling his fingers out slowly. Dean groaned at the loss, but Castiel was done with making either of them wait. Dean was finally, mercifully ready for him both physically and mentally. Cass lifted Dean’s knees and he bent them willingly, allowing Castiel to move him as he saw fit. Something tight coiled in Cass’s core at the submissive gesture.  _ Savor this, Castiel. You will never find another like him as long as you live.  _

 

He pressed his lube-slick cock in slowly, sighing with relief as Dean’s tight entrance pulled him in further. He bit his bottom lip and tilted his head back as he inched in, Dean’s body igniting under him with heat. Calloused hands gripped his hips and he was yanked forward with a needy growl, causing his eyes to shoot open and his body to tip forward as he bottomed out completely in Dean.

 

“Move, Cass - fuck, I need - need you to  _ move!”  _

 

So he did. Lazily at first, stretching Dean further and adjusting to the abrupt pressure that was so vastly different from the neglect he’d been feeling for what seemed like hours. He kissed Dean deeply as nails dug into his back, his tongue pressing for entrance but finding not a trace of resistance. Dean opened for him in every sense of the word, and Castiel happily filled the voids. 

 

Their bodies fit together in ways that Cass hadn’t even known were possible. Sweat and precum and lube mixed over their skin and they glided against each other, two people crashing together and creating an ecstacy Cass imagined only few people before had ever achieved. His pace quickened as Dean’s skin jumped under every brush of his thumb, every flick of his tongue. Guttural moans and needy pleas filled any remaining space between them until Dean’s name was the only word Castiel even remembered. His body was alive and focused and sparking with electricity by the time he felt his orgasm growing, and he braced himself on a single, shaky arm as his other wrapped around Dean’s thick, throbbing cock. 

 

“Cum for me, Dean. You’re so - you’re so -” Cass was lost for words for the first time in his recollectable memory, and his forehead dropped to Dean’s shoulder not in defeat - but in resignation that he’d never find the words to describe Dean. His failure to communicate didn’t seem to matter, because Dean’s breath hitched and suddenly he was impossibly tighter, clenching around Cass’s cock until he was past the point of being able to hold back his release. 

 

They came together, Cass buried deep and Dean spilling over a soft hand and hard muscle, both lost for words and the act nearly silent compared to the build-up. Reality itself splintered as he emptied, and when the room and body below him finally came back into focus, Cass nearly hardened again just from the sight of Dean wrecked and used and  _ sated.  _ He pulled out slowly, causing both of them to gasp and Dean’s arms bracketed around Cass’s body to hold him in place. He laid down next to Dean, his body vibrating from exhaustion. He lost track of how long they laid there like that; soaked, sticky limbs intertwined and hot, huffed breaths ghosting over each other’s faces. 

 

When they finally calmed, Castiel mentally cursed himself for not using a condom. He’d been fully prepared to, had even gone so far as to make sure they had one - but when it came time to actually use it, it had been the furthest thing from his mind. “Are you okay, Dean?” 

 

Silence. 

 

Cass opened his eyes and saw that Dean was sleeping, his face relaxed and positively serene. Cass smiled to himself and slowly extracted his arms and legs from Dean’s embrace. He took a few moments to clean himself up in the bathroom and then brought a warm washcloth out to Dean and cleaned him up as gently and slowly as he could, not wanting to wake him. He shifted Dean so he was no longer laying in the wet spot and covered him up with the sheet. He dressed quietly and the internal war started. 

 

_ That was his first time with a man. You should stay, if you run off in the middle of the night, you could traumatize him and it won’t matter how careful you were previously.  _

 

_ If you stay, you risk getting even more invested than you already are. He said he’s just visiting, he’ll be leaving and you’ll never see him again. You get too attached, you’re  _ **_already_ ** _ too attached, you should leave before it gets any worse.  _

 

_ Stay.  _

 

_ Go.  _

 

He was nearly ready to rip his own hair out with indecision when he heard the rustling of sheets behind him. “Cass?” 

 

He turned, smiling lightly at Dean. “I didn’t want to wake you, but truth be told I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to stay or go.” 

 

“Oh.” Dean almost sounded disappointed, but Cass couldn’t work out if it was because Cass suggested leaving or because he’d suggested staying. “What do you wanna do?” 

 

_ Time to make a decision. Just go, get out while you can.  _ “I’d like to stay, if that’s alright with you. You should know I don’t expect anything from you, I’m well aware this will be our only encounter.” 

 

Dean didn’t sound any less disappointed when he muttered, ‘okay,’ and Cass nearly changed his mind and left anyway. He stripped back down to his boxer briefs and crawled back into the bed. “Can… may I hold you?” 

 

Dean glanced sideways at him and looked like the personification of a rope stretched to its limits. “Uhh, yeah, I mean… if that’s what  _ you  _ wanna do, I’m not gonna complain.” He shifted closer to Cass, and after some trial and error with positions that felt comfortable for both of them, they ended up with Dean’s back pressed against his chest and his leg trapped between Dean’s. He stretched his arm over his chest and sought out Dean’s fingers, tentatively brushing his thumb over the digits as an invitation. Dean seemed to struggle with the concept for a moment, but his fingers laced with Cass’s and they both relaxed. Moments later, they were both asleep. 

 

Cass woke at some point in the night to find they’d moved, and they were now face to face and holding each other. Cass pressed a light kiss to Dean’s forehead as his chest tightened with all that this could have been, and he drifted off to sleep once more. 

 

When he opened his eyes for good, Dean was gone. 


	5. Chapter 5

Cass laid in that bed until his chest stopped hurting. He had no right to be upset, he knew Dean wasn’t going to stay - he knew he’d never see him again - he had no reason to believe they’d have breakfast together and share some emotional farewell before parting. But this was the price he paid for being who he was. This was why he’d been alone for so long, unable to stomach the idea of falling so quickly and so completely for someone else and have it be unrequited. It was a curse, a curse he’d do anything to get rid of.

 

He sat up slowly and rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes. The sun was pouring unwelcome light into the room, and the clock on the wall alerted him that he had twenty minutes to vacate before typical checkout time when someone would be coming to clean the room. He dressed in a daze and made a quick sweep to make sure he didn’t forget anything - he’d already lost his jacket to this endeavor, he didn’t want to lose anything else. He paused near the bedside table when he noticed a note tucked under the alarm. It was a phone number, followed by the worst words Dean could have ever said to him.

 

_**Maybe I’ll be back some day.** _

 

He nearly tossed the note in the trash as one last, final gift to himself. _Forget the note. Forget Dean. Move on, carry on - go on._ The paper found its way to his pocket anyway, but his eyes fixated on the trash can. It was… full. Curiosity getting the better of him, he pulled out one of the crumpled pages and smoothed it out over the bed.

 

~~**_Cass, that was_ ** ~~

 

Intrigued, he dumped the bin onto the blanket and read through each one.

 

~~_ **I don’t know where the hell you came from, and I don’t care. Thank you for** _ ~~

 

~~_**Was that as good for you as it was for m** _ ~~

 

~~_**Hey, sorry i’m runnin’ out, i got a call and need to go. Maybe we can** _ ~~

 

~~_**Here’s my number. You should definitely call m** _ ~~

 

There were nearly a dozen of them in all, each one similar to the last. He smiled to himself at what Dean’s face must have looked like as he wrote them, all flushed and nervous and maybe even a little regretful. He unabashedly took a couple of his favorites before pitching the rest of them again and hurrying out of the room. He assumed Dean hadn’t checked out, so he went to the main lobby of the hotel to do it for him lest Dean be charged for another day. Without a last name, it wasn’t easy, but the room number and description seemed to be enough that the girl knew who he was talking about.

 

The wait for his taxi was excruciating, and the ride itself was even worse. The driver kept glancing in the rearview mirror at him, and Cass knew just from the soreness alone that he was staring at at least one giant, purple hickey on his neck. He refused to look ashamed, because he wasn’t. While being an openly gay man in Montana wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, it also wasn’t as bad as other places, and there was nothing about the hickey that would suggest which gender caused it. They rode in silence, and Castiel sighed with relief when he was finally back in his own home and could drop the _this is fine_ act.

 

His shoulders slumped and he made an effort to cut off all outside light - closing doors and drawing curtains until he was curled up in bed and his room was pitch black. He didn’t expect to sleep, but that didn’t stop him from closing his eyes and willing himself to slip back into unconsciousness.

 

He laid there for hours or days, it was hard to tell. Eventually, his phone vibrated on his bedside table enough times that Castiel finally reached over and grabbed it. He squinted against the painful brightness of the screen and swiped to answer.

 

“What.”

 

“Ouch, Cassie. Is that any way to greet your brother?”

 

“It’s the _only_ way to greet you, Gabriel. What do you want? It’s Sunday, I’m trying to relax.”

 

“I was caaalling to find out how your date with Patrick went.”

 

_Patrick? Who - oh! The momma’s boy._ “It was horrendous, thank you for asking. I won’t be seeing him again.”

 

“Horrendous, huh? Is that why you didn’t come home last night?”

 

_Crap._ “No, I assure you, Patrick had nothing to do with that.”

 

“Ooooh! So it was somebody else?”

 

He let out an exasperated sigh. Gabriel wasn’t unlike a kid in a candy store with potentially new information. Or a dog with a bone. Relentless and entirely too excited. “Yes, but I won’t be seeing _him_ again, either. Are you satisfied? Can I please return to what I was doing?”

 

“Shut the front door, there’s no way! There is no way in _hell_ that my little brother had a one-night stand. Nope, nuh - uh, not buyin’ it!”

 

He hung up the phone. Gabriel called right back.

 

“Gabriel, yes. I had a…” he swallowed thickly around the words but forced them out in an effort to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “I had a one-night stand. He doesn’t live in town, so that’s all it will be. One night.”

 

Gabriel was uncharacteristically quiet. “You okay, baby bro?”

 

_Curses. Curse me for being so damn predictable and curse Gabriel for always knowing how I’m really feeling._ “I’m fine, Gabriel. I knew what I was getting into when it happened.”

 

“Musta been some guy.”

 

“He was.”

 

“Didya get his number?”

 

“He left it, yes.”

 

Gabriel let out a triumphant _whoop._ “Well there ya have it, Cassie! Call him!”

 

He nearly hung up again. “No. It’s better left the way it is.”

 

“Awww screw it, I know better than to argue with you when you’ve made up your mind. Just don’t mope around too long, baby bro. Get back on that app of yours, meet someone else.”

 

He sighed. “Goodbye, Gabriel.” And this time, when he hung up, Gabriel didn’t call back.

 

\--------------

 

Three weeks later, Castiel was no closer to forgetting Dean, but he’d at least arrived at a place where he could function without the man devouring every single one of his thoughts. He’d given up on Bumble and hadn’t texted Dean. He’d gone to work, stayed late, barely slept, and repeated that cycle over and over again. His weekends returned to boring, lonely affairs that consisted of a glass of wine and enough documentaries to fill a library. The only thing he’d looked forward to were those pottery classes, but even those were coming to an end because the instructor was going on maternity leave. He was restless, bored, and utterly unsatisfied.

 

His classes were through for the day, but his office hours were not. Students rarely needed him after class, but he’d made it a personal rule when he began teaching that he would remain in his office and accessible during office hours whether anyone came in or not. He was fidgeting with the trinkets and pens on his desk when his phone buzzed. He rolled his eyes when he saw the Bumble logo, and opened the app with the intention on deleting his profile entirely. It brought up the message center immediately, and Cass paused when he saw it was from impala67. He hadn’t heard from him since before his date with Patrick.

 

**Impala67:** _Did you die?_

 

He debated about writing back, but impala hadn’t been overly forward and sometimes he could even be fun to talk to.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Decidedly not, although some days I’ve questioned it. I could ask you the same question, however. My inbox has been mercifully empty for weeks._

 

**Impala67:** _Empty? Nah, that can’t be right. A guy like you has to have all sorts of people blowing up his shit._

 

Cass smiled despite himself.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _If that’s some sort of a euphemism, please don’t elaborate._

 

**Impala67:** _Dude, gross, no 😂 I’m just surprised you don’t get more messages, but I can tell you it’s probably cuz your profile reads like a robotic Classifieds ad._

**Impala67:** _I didn’t die either, btw. Just met someone, but it didn’t work out. Took me a while to get over it._

 

**Fallenangel34:** _I know the feeling. I’m sorry that happened to you. Surely you’ve got plenty of matches on here to choose a suitable replacement._

 

**Impala67:** _You’d think, but turns out there’s a lot less gay dudes interested in big, black cars than I thought._

 

Cass’s nose wrinkled as he huffed a laugh.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Is THAT a euphemism?_

 

**Impala67:** _Nah, I’m too white for it to be accurate, but I thought it’d at least make people curious enough to break the ice. Guess I was wrong._

 

Cass bit his lip, wondering if he should let the conversation stall there. In the end, he decided that conversation with Impala was harmless. He wasn’t asking for photos or saying anything inappropriate. He was easy to talk to, and had managed to get him to laugh for the first time in weeks. Maybe they could be friends, or as close to it as you can get without even knowing someone’s real name.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Is that really your car, then?_

 

**Impala67:** _Yeah, it was my dad’s before he died. He was a drinker, and took her out for a spin one night. Totaled her and died in the process. I fixed her up and she’s been my Baby ever since._

 

He wasn’t sure when he became the person people just casually mentioned dead parents to, but after his encounter with Dean, he felt this was a similar situation where he shouldn’t dwell too much on that part.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _So the car means a great deal to you, then. I can understand why you chose it as your physical representation here._

 

**Impala67:** _Yeah, try tellin’ that to my brother. Sammy’s been up my ass about puttin’ a legit pic of myself on here, says it’ll boost my matches or whatever. Truth is, I’m tired of datin’ people just cuz they like how I look. Figure if I can find someone with enough interest in other things to actually ask about the car, I’ll be better off._

 

Cass hummed, tapping his fingers on the desk as he considered his response. He certainly knew how Impala felt in this manner, which was one of the reasons he’d chosen the rear view instead of his face.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Your brother is supportive, then?_

 

**Impala67:** _Hell yeah, Sammy’s great. I pretty much raised him, so he’s gotta love me. The kid’s always got my back, even when it pisses me off._

 

**Fallenangel34:** _It must be nice to have a sibling like that, although I’m sorry you were burdened with raising him. That’s not something any child should have to go through. My own brother is annoyingly overbearing sometimes, but he’s got my best interests at heart._

 

**Impala67:** _Ahh, it wasn’t a burden. I was happy to do it, Sammy was better off with me anyway. Now he’s some hot shot lawyer and I can’t win a damn argument with him to save my life. What’s your brother like?_

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Gabriel is… intense, and childish, and incredibly indulgent in all things. But he’s kind and caring and outgoing, and he’s saved me from myself more than once._

 

**Impala67:** _What’s he do for a living?_

 

**Fallenangel34:** _This might be inappropriate to ask, but have you ever seen or heard of Casa Erotica?_

 

**Impala67:** _Dude! That’s one of my favorites!_

 

**Fallenangel34:** _That’s Gabriel’s work. He takes great pride in it, although I’ve never personally seen the allure of pornography myself._

 

**Impala67:** _Okay, what kinda weirdo ain’t into porn?_

**Impala67:** _Wait wait, don’t answer that. To each their own, but seriously? That’s cool as hell, man. Your brother sounds awesome._

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Please don’t ever tell him that, he’s ego is big enough as it is._

 

A quick glance at the clock alerted him that office hours had been over for nearly forty five minutes. He pulled on his jacket and stashed his phone in his pocket before gathering up his things and heading out to his car to drive home.

 

When he got back inside, there were no more messages from Impala. He bit back his slight twinge of disappointment as he started his microwave dinner and poured himself a glass of wine.

 

He spent a few moments scrolling through social media as his dinner cooked, and when the microwave beep drew his attention, he took his wine and food into the living room and sat down. For some reason, he wasn’t in the mood for a documentary. He opened the guide on the TV and scrolled through the channels until he came across HBO, which was airing Game of Thrones. He was brought back to his bar date with Dean. He considered texting him, but decided against it and went for the safer option. He opened his messages with Impala back up.

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Have you ever seen the television show Game of Thrones? It airs on HBO._

 

**Impala67:** _Are you friggen kiddin’ me, dude? That show is fuckin’ awesome! Why, what part are you at?_

 

**Fallenangel34:** _I actually haven’t seen it. A… we’ll call him a friend, recommended it to me a few weeks ago but I hadn’t gotten around to starting it. I think I might._

 

**Impala67:** _You should, and then you should buy that friend a beer cuz that show will change your damn life._

 

He smiled sadly to himself. _If only I could._

 

**Fallenangel34:** _Maybe._

 

**Impala67:** _Well shit, put your damn phone down and start watchin’ it. I’ll expect a full review in the morning, you got that?_

 

**Fallenangel34:** _We’ll see if I make it past the first episode. Goodnight, Impala._

 

**Impala67:** _Night, Angel._

 

Cass took a few moments to change into something more comfortable and make some popcorn. When he settled back in onto his couch, he propped his feet up on his coffee table and searched for season one, episode one. He read the synopsis and was decently interested, so he pressed play.

 

_Let’s see what all the fuss is about._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein a simple conversation turns the tide.

Cass had watched five episodes before finally going to bed that night. A week later, he was midway through season three and exactly as obsessed with it as everyone else was. He was grateful that regular classes had just ended, because he was wrecked with exhaustion. He still needed to grade the final exams and tidy up his room for the summer break - thankfully, no students signed up for the summer semester in his classes - but he was almost done. 

 

He took a break from grading to pour himself a cup of coffee, and he was tired enough that he could blame it on fatigue when he pulled his phone out and hovered over Dean’s contact info. He hit the message icon and retyped the message about a dozen times before finally selecting something simple. 

 

**Castiel:** _ Joffrey’s a dick.  _

 

He hit send, and only after did he realize that Dean didn’t have his number. He followed it up. 

 

**Castiel:** _ This is Castiel, by the way. From the bar in Montana awhile back. It just occurred to me right this second that you probably don’t even remember me, please disregard my first message.  _

 

He put his phone down with a grimace and settled in at his kitchen table to grade. It was long and arduous, but he was overall pleased with how his students had progressed throughout the year. The GRK 2o2 exams were decidedly better than the GRK 300 ones, but he’d learned to expect that after half a decade. 

 

He yawned and stretched his arms out until his back popped satisfactorily, deciding to leave the rest of the exams for the morning. He tidied up the kitchen and rinsed his coffee cup out, and was so lost in his own thoughts about the fall semester that the sound of his phone made him jump. 

 

He stared at it from across the room for a long moment.  _ No. It can’t be Dean. It won’t be. It’ll be Impala, or Gabriel, or Balthazar, or… someone else. Don’t get your hopes up.  _ His heart sped up as he crossed the room and retrieved his phone. 

 

**_1 New Message: Dean_ **

 

**Dean:** _ Buddy, that was the best night of my damn life. You honestly thought I’d forget you? Man, you’ve had some shitty fuckin’ partners.  _

 

His heart leapt to his throat and his stomach sank to his toes. He stood frozen with his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for the letters glaring back at him to rearrange themselves into something that made more sense. The letters didn’t move, and eventually, Castiel did. 

 

**Castiel:** _ Oh. Yes, I have. I’m sorry I assumed you’d be the same, I should have known better.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Dude, I didn’t think I was ever gonna hear from you. Took you long enough. I was startin’ to think you didn’t get my note. _

 

**Castiel:** _ No, I got your note. I just assumed since you ran off that you left it out of some sense of obligation.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Yeah, not even a little bit. I’ve been kickin’ my own ass for not stayin’ or at least wakin’ you up before I left, but I got a call about a job cross country and the guy was in a hurry, I couldn’t waste time. I make a livin’ restoring classic cars, and it’s damn good money when I’ve got the work, but it’s not always easy to come by. I couldn’t pass it up.  _

 

It was stupid, but the words nearly forced tears from Cass’s eyes. 

 

**Castiel:** _ Thank you for saying that. I honestly think I needed to hear it.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Oh man, plz don’t tell me you’ve been fucked up about it? I’m sorry, it was shitty of me and I probably shoulda been more clear in the note. I couldn’t figure out what the hell to say, I’ve always sucked at that stuff.  _

 

**Castiel:** _ Don’t apologize, Dean. Truly, it’s fine. I’ve always been known to get too attached when I shouldn’t. Did it help, though? I know you said it was your first time with a man. I hope I didn’t ruin the experience for you.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Cass, dude, it was fuckin’ awesome. You got nothin’ to worry about there. I’m actually kinda talkin’ to a guy thanks to you, but I don’t really think he’s all that into me.  _

 

**Castiel:** _ That can’t possibly be true. Dean, you’re incredibly good looking, smart, funny, and obviously talented if you make a living by restoring old cars. The man would have to be blind, deaf, and an idiot not to be interested in you.  _

 

His chest tightened at the thought of Dean wanting someone else, and not for the first time, he reminded himself he had no right to feel that way. They were simply two ships passing in the night that just so happened to have mind-blowing sex and then go their separate ways. It wasn’t destiny, or fate, and he had absolutely no claim to Dean whatever-his-last-name is. 

 

**Dean:** _ Yeah, I wish that was true. Any new prospects on your radar? _

 

**Castiel:** _ Not hardly. I don’t really get out much, and I wasn’t kidding when I told you that I don’t really do the “one-night stand” thing.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Yeah, and despite the fact that I’ve got firsthand evidence that says otherwise, I actually believe you. That didn’t feel much like a one nighter, did it?  _

 

**Castiel:** _ No, it didn’t. I’m sorry if that wasn’t what you were looking for.  _

 

**Dean:** _ To be honest, it wasn’t - not at all, but I was kinda glad it played out the way it did. It was awesome. YOU were awesome.  _

 

**Castiel:** _ Don’t discount yourself, Dean. You might have been inexperienced, but it was… well, you aren’t the only one that considers that the best night of their life.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Shame I’m clear down in Louisiana, huh?  _

 

**Castiel:** _ Yes, that is a shame.  _

 

The conversation was now making him sad, so he followed that up with an escape. 

 

**Castiel:** _ I should get back to grading papers. It’s been wonderful talking to you, Dean. Good luck with your… friend.  _

 

**Dean:** _ Oh, uh… yeah, Cass. You too I guess. Hope you enjoy GOT, and a word to the wise? Don’t get too attached to anyone.  _

 

Cass wasn’t sure if Dean meant the characters or in real life, but either way it made little difference. He  _ always  _ got too attached. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

The months dragged on, and he’d long since finished Game of Thrones. He’d refrained from texting Dean again, and instead, he’d spent hours talking to Impala67 about it. They hated all the same characters, desparaged over all of the same deaths. They agreed wholeheartedly that the final season was rushed, but yet the finale was perfect. If anyone deserved to ride off to the North with his best friend and his direwolf, it was Jon Snow. They’d somehow used that show as a building block towards an actual friendship, and Castiel was grateful because Impala quickly became the only social interaction that Castiel took part in. They still messaged on Bumble and neither had divulged their real name, but they’d finally agreed to meet. 

 

So, two days before their planned get-together (Cass refused to call it a date, because it decidedly was  _ not _ ), Cass was busy trying to figure out where to take him and what to wear. He finally made his choices and nodded to himself as he looked at the outfit he’d picked out, and if it happened to be the one he’d worn on his date with Patrick/Dean… well, no one needed to know that. 

 

There was a knock at his door and he yelled for the visitor to come in. He never got visitors, so it would be one of two people - Gabriel or Balthazar, and in this particular instance, it happened to be both. 

 

The door creaked open and he heard muffled voices from the main room downstairs. He hastily shoved his chosen outfit back into his closet and shuffled down the stairs to greet his brother and best friend. 

 

“Hello, Gabriel. Balthazar.” 

 

“Cassie!” 

 

“Baby bro!” 

 

He barely had time to internally cringe before the two were enveloping him in what Gabriel often referred to as a ‘hug sandwich’. “Why are you two here?” 

 

It was Balthazar that spoke first, his accent thick but clear and proper. “Gabriel tells me you haven’t been leaving the house, Cass. You’re not still upset about that one-night stand you had, are you? It was  _ months  _ ago, surely you’ve found someone else that would butter your biscuit so to speak?” 

 

The mention of Dean caused his stomach to twist. “No, I’m not still upset, that would be absurd. Even for me,” he added, seeing the look on Gabriel’s face. “I simply don’t see the need to leave the house when I have everything I need right here or at my fingertips.” 

 

“‘Cept people, right, Cassie?” Gabriel nudged his arm and gave him that big-brother look that told him he wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. 

 

“I partake in social interaction at my pottery class, I’ve been going twice a week. The substitute instructor is actually far more competent than the one that went on maternity leave.” 

 

“Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing, although I can’t fathom why you have such a hard time meeting people. Sure, you’re awkward and a touch overbearing, but you’ve got eyes like the ocean and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. It’s honestly superb, I’d rate it 9 out of 10.” Balthazar fixed Castiel with a stare that made him borderline uncomfortable, which was only made worse by the way Gabriel was looking back and forth between them. 

 

“Waaait a minute… why haven’t  _ you  _ two hooked up?” Gabriel was swinging both hands between them as if there was some sort of confusion about who he was speaking about. “You’re already friends, Balthy’s clearly got the hots for you… hah! Problem solved.” 

 

The truth was, Castiel and Balthazar had already gone down that road once. It hadn’t worked out, but it had ended amicably and allowed them to continue their friendship. Gabriel was blissfully unaware of those details, and after a quick, confirming glance towards Balthazar, it was silently agreed upon that  it would stay that way. “If you  _ must  _ know, in two days I’m meeting up with someone. A friend, not a love interest.”  _ Well, perhaps a love interest. But I refuse to get my hopes up, so I won’t call it that until something actually happens.  _

 

“And who is this lucky comrade?” Balthazar asked. 

 

_ You don’t even know his real name, this should go over well.  _ “Just a friend I met on that dating app. We’ve been conversing for several months now and we figured it was time we put names and faces to the screen names.” 

 

“Wait wait wait… there’s a person out there that has managed to survive  _ months  _ of conversation with you without even knowing what you look like? So… so you’re just… actually talking? About bees?”

 

“No, Gabriel. Well, yes, he was woefully undereducated about the dangers facing the bee population but it’s not just that. We talk about all sorts of things. Family, friends, jobs… he’s a mechanic by trade, I don’t understand 90% of what he means when he speaks about his job but he knows that so it rarely comes up. He’s expanded my knowledge of popular culture, specifically music and horror movies.” Cass shrugged. “He’s an excellent listener and once we worked through our initial issues, things have gone much smoother.” 

 

Gabriel and Balthazar blinked at him in unison. “Baby bro, you need to marry this guy. I don’t care if he looks like a friggen  _ troll,  _ if he lets you ramble on about all of the nerdy shit that bores me to death… you need to marry him.” 

 

Cass smiled. “Ramble On is one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs.” 

 

More dumbfounded blinking. “You know who Led Zeppelin is?” 

 

“Yes, they’re a rock band from the late 60’s, and 70’s that consisted of Robert Plant, James Page, John Bonham and John Paul Jones. Bonham, of course, died in 1980 after consuming roughly 40 shots of vodka. Despite the success many other groups had replacing members and carrying on, Led Zeppelin disbanded two months after Bonham’s death. Compilations and live albums were all that were released after that.” Cass nodded matter-of-factly, and Gabriel gaped at him. 

 

“If you don’t marry him, I will. If he could get  _ you  _ of all people into Led Zeppelin, I can only imagine what else he’s capable of.” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows and Cass groaned, busying himself with getting each of them something to drink. 

 

“It’s much too early to speak of marriage, Gabriel. I don’t even know his real name.” 

 

Balthazar scowled.  “So ask him, you wildly intelligent moron. I can tell just by the look on your face that you’re far more into him than you’re letting on.” 

 

_ Perhaps he’s right. Impala67 certainly has expanded my horizons, and he’s been nothing but gracious when I’ve gone off on tangents about the environment or art or something I’ve come across during lesson planning. I suppose if I allow myself to really look at things, I’ve known for awhile that I view him as more than a friend. Perhaps much more.  _

 

“I’m sure that will come up when we see each other on Saturday. I don’t want to assume anything before we have a chance to meet. It’s entirely possible we won’t be compatible in person. Attraction isn’t everything, but it needs to at least exist.” 

 

“Oh save it, Cassie. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Gabriel ignored the drink Cass had gotten for him and clapped Balthazar on the shoulder. “Well! Looks like our work here is done, we’ll check back in with you on Sunday, baby bro. Be safe -  _ use protection.”  _

 

Balthazar chuckled as Cass heavily rolled his eyes. He said goodbye to each of them, and after another dreaded hug sandwich, he was mercifully alone again. 

 

\-----------------

 

Saturday morning he woke up with all of the nerves he’d expect from one of his students on exam day. A tight coil of apprehension and excitement made his movements stiffer and his heart beat quicker even as he went about the mundane tasks of eating and showering. 

 

Three hours before his date with Impala67 (yes, after his conversation with Gabriel and Balthazar, he was officially calling this a date), his phone buzzed. 

 

**Impala67:** _ Hey, so something came up and I got detoured. My own damn car broke down, you believe that shit? Anyway, it’s gonna take me a couple of days to get it fixed but that’s gonna eat up all the free time I had. I’m sorry, Angel. I’m not gonna make it.  _

 

Cass’s heart sank, and he deflated not unlike a balloon being relieved of its contents.  _ You should have expected this, Castiel.  _

 

**Fallenangel34:** _ I understand. I hope you don’t have any trouble fixing your car. Perhaps we can reschedule for another time?  _

 

**Impala67:** _ Yeah, uhh… truth be told, I was really lookin’ forward to meetin’ you. I dunno when I’ll be able to make it up there though, so maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up.  _

 

_ This is his way of telling you he isn’t interested, despite his initial words. He won’t be coming, you won’t be meeting him. As he stated… don’t get your hopes up.  _

 

**Fallenangel34:** _ I understand, truly. Thank you for letting me know.  _

 

He put his phone down and closed his eyes, temporarily allowing the sadness of the situation to wash over him. He was suddenly angry at Gabriel and Balthazar for forcing him to actually look at his feelings for Impala67 - if they hadn’t, this wouldn’t feel like a blow, it would just be a casual change of plans. 

 

He drew the curtains and crawled back into bed, leaving his phone forgotten on the table. 

 

\-----------------------

 

As promised, Gabriel showed up bright and early Sunday morning with donuts and coffee. Too early, by Castiel’s measure. He groggily opened the door, and Gabriel’s eyes swept over his bedhead and crooked pajama pants. 

 

“Rough night?” 

 

Cass shook his head, centering the waistband of his pants before taking the coffee and donuts from Gabriel. “No, but you know I’m not a morning person. Please hold until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee.” He shuffled into the kitchen and sat down, closing his eyes as he took his first sip. 

 

Gabriel obliged him in irritated, tense silence as Cass finished his coffee. With a heavy sigh that was perhaps a  _ little  _ over exaggerated, Cass looked to Gabriel. “You may speak.” 

 

“Well?! You didn’t call, you didn’t text… I drove past and your car was still here all night. Are you hiding him somewhere? Is he in your bed?” Gabriel glanced towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms with a curious expression. 

 

“We didn’t meet. I stayed in last night. And no, it wasn’t my fault. I had been fully prepared to go through with it, but something came up on his end and it didn’t work out. It’s not a big deal.” 

 

“I’m sorry, baby bro. I know you say it’s not, but I’ve known you long enough to know that it is. Did he have a believable excuse?” 

 

“Car trouble.” 

 

“Wait a minute, didn’t you say he was a mechanic?” 

 

“Yes, Gabriel. But that doesn’t mean his own vehicle is immune from issues. He didn’t tell me the exact issue, but he said it would take a couple of days to correct the problem and that was all the freetime he was going to have. I’m assuming he was only able to get so many days off of work.” 

 

Gabriel smiled sadly at him. “You always were one to eat up the bullcrap, you know that? Sometimes it makes me crazy because people use that to walk all over you, but in a way, I sorta envy you for it. You take people at their word, even if they’re nothin’ but a great big bag of dicks.” 

 

Cass smiled in return. “I’ll take that as high praise coming from you, although I’m struggling to see the merits of such a trait at this exact moment. All it ever leads to is me getting myself hurt because I get too attached, especially to people like Impala67 and Dean.” 

 

“Dean? He’s the one you jumped out of the window at Rocky’s with, right?” Cass nodded. “Have you heard anything from him?” 

 

Cass shook his head. “No, our last conversation was actually a few months ago. He didn’t seem eager to continue speaking with me, so I ended the conversation and haven’t reached out since.” 

 

Gabriel raised his eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe. Are you sure you didn’t just misunderstand his intention? Not to be a dick or anything, but you kinda suck at reading people.” 

 

Cass considered this for a moment. “See for yourself, I still have the text messages I believe.” He pulled out his phone and opened the message thread between himself and Dean, scrolling back to the top before he handed it over. 

 

Gabriel read through the few short messages a half a dozen times. “Uhh, baby bro… again,  _ not  _ tryna be a dick here, but you definitely weren’t pickin’ up what he was puttin’ down.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“He sounds…  _ sad.  _ Like he wanted you to keep talking to him but you blew him off, and  _ not  _ in the good way.” Gabriel’s fingers sped across the keyboard for a moment and he heard the whooshing sound that signaled a text was being sent. 

 

“Gabriel!” 

 

Gabriel put on his best imitation of innocence and handed his phone back. “Thank me later, baby bro. Gotta bounce!” Without another word, Gabriel grabbed his keys from the table and took off out the door. 

 

He looked down at his phone with dread, imagining all sorts of things Gabriel might have sent Dean. Sure enough, it wasn’t good. 

 

**Castiel:** _ I’m sorry I was being so stupid before, it’s just my general personality. I’d love to see you again, if that was something you were still interested in. You know where to find me.  _

 

He read the words again and groaned, because while it was true - it didn’t need to be said, and certainly not in that manner. It also sounded nothing like him, and he was sure Dean would see right through it. 

 

He shut his phone off immediately. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who’s ready for a Dean chapter?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein progress is won then lost then won again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it’s time we hear from Dean.

**_Dean:_ **

 

Dean read the text and squinted at the screen. “What the…” 

 

His best friend Charlie looked over from where she was sprawled out on her couch. “What?”

 

“You uhhh… you remember that guy I told you about? From Montana?”

 

Charlie quirked an eyebrow. “You mean the dreamboat that popped your proverbial dude cherry?”

 

Dean’s face flushed. “Yeah, him. I haven’t heard from him in a long ass time and he just texted me, said ‘you know where to find me.’ What the hell does that even mean?” 

 

She giggled. “I think it means he wants you to… y’know… come  _ find  _ him. Call him and ask him?”

 

Dean pulled his lower lip between his teeth and nodded. “Yeah, yeah alright.” He called the number and held the phone up to his ear as his knee bounced like it was on a damn trampoline. 

 

_ “This is my voicemail. Make your voice a mail.”  _

 

He hung up. “No answer, it didn’t even ring.” 

 

“Maybe his phone died? I dunno. Do you miss him?”

 

Dean’s eyes narrowed as if he was offended by the question. “C’mon, I barely know the guy. Why would I miss him?”

 

Charlie gave him that look that was just so…  _ Charlie. “ _ Hmmm… maybe because you looked like someone scratched the living  _ hell  _ out of Baby when he didn’t answer. It’s okay to miss him. That was a big night for you.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah. That may be how it is with  _ your  _ kind, but dudes don’t get like that. Besides, it ain’t like it was my first time between the sheets.”

 

“No, but it was the first time you were ever between the sheets with a man, and it was  _ also  _ the first time you ever shared the dirty deets with yours truly.” Charlie flipped her legs so her feet were resting on the floor and leaned forward. 

 

“That ain’t true… I mean, they might not have been sexy details, but I told you all about Fallen Angel.”

 

She smiled. “Yes, you did. You told me all about how your geeky little self fell in love with an abrasive nerd with sex hair, all over text message. Tell me - if you’re so crazy about him, why even bother with Dreamboat?”

 

Dean frowned. “Cuz, Charles. Angel don’t want me, Cass did. Barely batted an eye when I told him I couldn’t come cuz of… whatever the hell excuse I made up. Doesn’t take a damn rocket scientist to work that one out, now can we knock it off with the goddamn chick flick moments?” 

 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Just try Dreamboat again later.”

 

He grumbled something not even he could understand and then closed his eyes. “Yeah, maybe later.”

 

————————

 

‘Later’ turned out to be the following Saturday while he was drunk off his ass. He paced outside of the dive bar he’d pulled into after nine hours in the car for a single drink that turned into a twelve pack and then some. 

 

“Just fuckin’ call him, dipshit.” Dean nodded to himself after his pep talk and pressed the call button. 

 

He stopped midstep when Cass answered. “Dean?”

 

“Oh uhhh… yeah, ’s Dean, is this - is this Cass? Sex hair, eyes like the fuckin’ ocean… uhh… bout yea big?” He silently cursed himself for that fucking train wreck of an opening, and also for how badly he was slurring his words. 

 

“I can’t see you right now, so I have no idea how tall you’re suggesting that I am, but yes. It’s me. Are you drunk?” 

 

_ Damn, it’s good to hear your voice. “ _ I mean, maybe. What’s it to ya?”

 

Silence, interrupted only by a beep that signaled his phone battery getting dangerously low. 

 

“Ahh shit, sorry. Yeah, I’m fuckin’ tanked. ’M sorry, maybe I…. shouldna called.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and willed himself to sober the hell up. 

 

“You never responded to my - well, Gabriel’s text message.” 

 

_ Wait, huh? “ _ Who the hell’s Gabriel?”

 

“He’s my brother, and he’s incredibly nosy. I’m not upset that he messaged you, but… you should know those weren’t my words.”

 

_ Everybody and their damn brother’s got a brother named Gabriel, apparently. This guy, Fallen Angel… guess it’s makin’ a comeback. “ _ So you… you don’t wanna see me? Nevermind, don’t friggen answer that.”

 

“Dean, I assure you that’s not what I meant. I simply would have been… less blunt about it.”

 

His stomach rolled in a nauseating yet hopeful little flip. “So you  _ do  _ wanna see me?”

 

“Of course, Dean. Your note said you’d be back someday. I was hoping you meant that.” 

 

The alcohol was making his brain fuzzy, and even dumber than normal. “Why?”

 

Cass sounded exasperated. “I already told you once that I consider our… encounter to be one of the best nights of my existence. Why would you doubt that I’d want to see you again if the opportunity presented itself?”

 

Another urgent low battery beep made him pull the phone slightly away from his ear. “So  _ proper,  _ dude. Can just say you liked fuckin’ me.”

 

He heard an audible sigh come over the line. “It wasn’t just that, Dean, although… yes, that was… quite frankly unbelievable. You made me laugh, which isn’t something I do a great deal of. Were you thinking about coming back to Montana?”

 

Something in Dean’s brain clicked.  _ Shit, Cass and Angel are from the same damn place. I probably should make the damn trip, see ‘em both and apologize for bein’ a dick.  _ A mental pause.  _ Hell, they got a lot in common.  _ “Uhh… I was thinkin’ about it, but it’s prob’ly gonna be awhile.” 

 

“Ahh. Well, as Gabriel stated… you know where to find me.” 

 

“Actually, I don’t, remember? We went to that crappy hotel I was stayin’ in.” Memories flooded his mind of that room and all of the things they  _ did  _ in that room.

 

“Of course. I don’t know if this has come up, but I work at the University of Montana. You can always find me there, but you could also just call when you near Missoula. Whenever that may be.” 

 

_ He’s a professor. In Montana. Awkward as hell… the sex hair matches… he’s gotta brother named Gabriel…  _ “uhh… hey Cass? You use Bumble at all?”

 

Silence. “I have, but I no longer use it for dating purposes. Why?” 

 

_ Holy fucking shit. Holy shit. Holy - Cass is Fallen fucking Angel. “ _ Dude, I’m Imp—“

 

His phone finally lost the last dregs of energy in its battery and cut him off. He stared blankly at the unresponsive screen, his mind whirling and his stomach threatening to empty all of its contents onto the pavement. 

 

_ They’re the same fucking person.  _

 

————————

 

Dean woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell and absolutely no recollection of how he’d gotten it. He groaned and rolled over on his boxy motel bed and looked at his phone, but it was dead.  _ Goddamnit.  _

 

He plugged it in so it could charge as he took a cold shower and stumbled out to the lobby for what passed as a continental breakfast, then returned to his room and turned it on. 

 

Other than a couple of messages from Sammy, there was nothing noteworthy. Out of habit, he checked his call log. 

 

_ I called Cass? Holy hell, it looks like he answered. Fuck, what the hell did I say? _

 

He was too embarrassed to call back and ask, so he sat on the edge of the bed and wracked his brain trying to figure it out. All he came up with was a deep-seated, unavoidable need to get to Montana. 

 

The job he was in Utah for would only last a few days, and it’d give him enough money to get to Montana and survive for a couple of weeks, but if he wanted to stay up there for any length of time he was gonna need work. 

 

His thoughts were sluggish, but he thought he had an idea. 

 

**Impala67:** _ Hey, I got kind of a weird question. You know any good mechanics in the area?  _

 

It took a few moments for Fallenangel34 to answer, but when he did, Dean was gifted with the name and number of a mechanic not far from the University where Angel worked. Something tugged in Dean’s memory, but whatever it was seemed to be just out of reach. 

 

He called the mechanic and explained who he was, and asked if he knew anyone in the area that had a classic car that needed restored - or really anything that would pass as a paying gig so he could go see Cass and Angel. Again, he had that fleeting feeling that he was missing something obvious, but that happened a lot after nights at the bar. The mechanic said he’d ask around and let Dean know if he found anything, and that was that. 

 

It was a full two weeks later before he heard anything back, but he was given the name and number of an elderly couple that had an old muscle car they wanted to restore as a present for their son. He talked it over with the guy and agreed on a price - one that was a little lower than Dean would normally accept, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and he wasn’t about to haggle with a dad just trying to connect with his kid - and set off for Montana that night. 

 

As he drove, he weighed his options.  _ Cass or Angel? Obviously you know you dig both of ‘em, but maybe Cass first? He’s real and you won’t have to go through that awkward first meeting. Yeah, yeah. Cass. Definitely.  _

 

He drove as far as he could before his eyes threatened to close on their own and stopped for the night. He double checked his GPS the next morning and confirmed he only had about an hour left in the drive, so he sent Cass a text. 

 

**Dean:** _ Rocky’s, 4pm.  _

 

He got a response immediately. 

 

**Cass:** _ Can we make it 5pm? I’m working. Does this mean you’re here?  _

 

Dean grinned to himself. 

 

**Dean:** _ It’s a date, and hopefully neither one of us will be jumpin’ out a window this time.  _

 

He opened the Bumble app and hovered over his messages with Fallen Angel, but decided he’d better just wait to tell him he was coming in case things with Cass went like he hoped they would. 

 

Instead, he shot a text to Charlie.

 

**Dean:** _ You’ll be proud of me, kiddo. I’m goin to see Cass.  _

 

**Charlie:** _ What about your delectable little penpal? _

 

**Dean:** _ Yeah, him too. I know it’s weird I’m goin to sorta meet two guys, but… I’m hopin shit just works out with Cass. I dunno if I could handle the rejection from Angel, I think things might be better off left where they are. _

 

**Charlie:** _ Good luck!! I hope it works out 😊  _

 

He tossed his phone on the passenger seat and turned up the radio.

 

_ Yeah. So do I.  _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, we're back to Cass.

Cass paced outside of Rocky’s a full hour before his date with Dean. As it turned out, after the unexpected text message he couldn’t bring himself to work anymore and had canceled his afternoon class. Two hours at home scrubbing himself clean and meticulously choosing an outfit much like a teenage girl would do, he’d set out to the bar. 

 

He couldn’t decide if it was better to just go in and sit down, risking someone telling Dean how long he’d truly been there waiting or if he should just sit in his car and pretend he’d only arrived a couple of minutes before Dean. Both options seemed bad, and in the end he split the difference. He wore a path into the asphalt outside of his car until he feared he’d begin to sweat, and then he went into the bar and took a seat. 

 

The twenty minutes it took Dean to arrive were near agonizing. He’d opted for water over liquor but immediately regretted that decision when he saw Dean step through the door of the bar looking every bit as beautiful as Cass remembered. He stumbled to his feet and attempted an easy smile as Dean approached him, and after an awkward moment of half outstretched arms and puzzled expressions, Dean pulled Cass into a hug. 

 

“Heya, Cass.”

 

“Hello, Dean.” 

 

Cass’s stomach slowly made its way into his throat as Dean tightened his grip before letting go entirely, and they exchanged nervous smiles before sitting down. 

 

“So… you came back after all.”

 

Dean flashed a grin. “Told ya I would. Sorry it took me so long.”

 

Cass shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Dean. To be honest, I’m astounded you even wanted to return. Montana isn’t exactly a tourist hotspot and most people are… put off by my general personality.” 

 

Cass took that opportunity to flag down the bartender, and they each ordered a drink. Dean took his gratefully and sipped it slowly before glancing sideways at Cass. “Why do you think that?” 

 

After a long drink of his own, Cass shrugged. “I don’t get out very often. I suppose you could say my ‘people skills’ are ‘rusty‘.” He grimaced when he realized he’d used actual air quotes, but Dean only chuckled. 

 

“You sure as hell didn’t seem rusty to me.”

 

Cass’s face flushed, and he found himself again regretting his choice to drink water before Dean’s arrival - if he’d had more than two sips, he could’ve blamed the redness in his cheeks on the alcohol. “Things are… they’re easier with you. I don’t feel the need to explain myself to you. You don’t… judge me like others do. Most people would have assumed I was insane for preferring to jump out of a bar window rather than deal with a single awkward encounter, and yet… you jumped with me.” 

 

“Hell, I was jumpin’ with or without you. You joinin’ me was just the icing on the cake.” Dean took another long drink and then sucked in a breath as if he was about to speak, but he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and stayed silent.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Ahhh it’s nothin’, I just uhh… I haven’t really been able to quit thinkin’ about you. Stupid, right?” Dean looked genuinely embarrassed, but for what reason, Castiel didn’t know. 

 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either.” Cass’s mind wandered to Impala67 and how he’d kept him at arms length, and the real reason finally clicked into place. “There’s been someone else that has expressed some level of interest in me, strangeness and all. But, truth be told, I haven’t allowed myself to really give it a chance because… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either. I always hoped your letter was true and you’d come back.” 

 

Dean’s expression changed into a relieved sort of resignation. “So there  _ is  _ someone else. I figured there would be. Guy like you wouldn’t stay single long, despite the bullshit you spew about bein’ too weird. Guess I’m glad I wasn’t the only one that couldn’t get that night outta their mine, though. Who’s the lucky guy?” 

 

Cass tilted his head. “Weren’t you listening, Dean? I wouldn’t give him a chance because I was hoping you’d come back. I’ve kept him at arms length, nothing has happened. I haven’t even spent time with him.”  _ You don’t know his name, either, but that’s hardly something to bring up.  _

 

Dean looked at him with unmistakable hope in his eyes. “So… now I’m not sayin’ this is possible, cuz it was harder than hell to get back here in the first place, but  _ if  _ I was able to stay for a little while… would you…?” 

 

Cass smiled. “Yes, Dean. I would be very interested to see where this goes.” 

 

The sun itself must have found its way into that very bar, judging by how bright the grin on Dean’s face was. “Shit, you’re serious.” He leaned forward and Cass’s brain had a split second’s warning before Dean’s lips were on his, and the rest of the world went black. 

 

There was nothing else. No bar, no people in the bar, no jukebox playing some classic rock song. No bartenders watching, no awkwardness, no University or nagging brothers or failures. Just Dean and an overwhelming feeling of coming home that Cass hadn’t even realized he was missing. 

 

They broke apart long enough for Dean to ask him if they could go somewhere else. Cass’s body moved on autopilot, paying their tabs and grabbing his coat. “We’ll take my car, I’ll bring you back to yours in the morning. Unless you’d rather follow me?”

 

Dean shook his head quickly. “Nah, this drive was long as hell. She’ll be fine here until morning, and if she’s not I’ll just whoop some Montana ass. Let’s go.” 

 

Cass grinned and pulled Dean out to his car, exchanging kisses and fevered touches on the way. His face was flushed for an entirely different reason by the time he slid into the drivers seat and started the car. “Just to be clear, you’re okay coming back to my house and staying until morning?”

 

Dean nodded and glanced around the parking lot. “Hell friggen yeah, just drive.”

 

So he did, but it was a distracted affair that had his gaze drifting towards the passenger seat and his free hand tangling with Dean’s wherever possible. 

 

Mercifully, it wasn’t a long drive and they pulled into Castiel’s garage only a few minutes after their departure. Dean whistled low as he took in the landscape and large house, and Cass chuckled to himself. “Yes, I suppose it’s larger than one person strictly needs, but I appreciate space.” 

 

“Looks way nicer than that shitty motel I took you to, so I sure as hell won’t complain.”

 

Cass’s hands were shaking slightly as he unlocked and opened the door, stepping aside to let Dean through. “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

 

Dean’s eyes traveled over the interior of the house as he walked in, but he shook his head. “Nah, but if we’re really gonna do this, there’s somethin’ I should take care of first. Actually, y’know what? I’ll take a beer if you’ve got one.” 

 

Cass nodded and watched as Dean pulled out his phone as he walked to the kitchen to get them each a beer. When he came back, Dean seemed lost in concentration as he stared at his screen. He held the beer out and Dean pressed a single button on his screen before pocketing the phone and taking the drink. “There, all set.”

 

Cass smiled and opened his own beer. “Come to think of it, perhaps I should text my brother and let him know not to disturb me this evening. He has a horrible habit of stopping by to do wellness checks on me.” He shrugged at Dean’s amused expression and pulled out his own phone, which had been on silent. He cleared a few email notifications from his students and shot a quick text to Gabriel. He was just about to turn his phone off entirely when he noticed a message from Impala67. 

 

**Impala67:** _ Uhh, hey Angel. This is kinda awkward cuz I know we’re just friends or whatever, but I think I actually met someone kinda special and I’m gonna delete the app. I’ve gotten a kick outta talkin’ to you and I hope you find someone that makes you happy. Thanks for puttin’ up with me for all these months.  _

 

He stared incredulously at the screen, unsure of what to say back or if Impala would even receive the message at this point. 

 

“What’s wrong, Cass?”

 

“I uhm… I think I just got dumped? By a man I wasn’t even actually seeing.”

 

Dean’s expression turned adorably indignant. “Gimme that, I’m gonna tell him what a dick he is and what he’s missin’ out on.” He snatched the phone from Cass’s hand before he could stop him and read the message a half a dozen times, and each time through his expression slackened a little more. His fingers didn’t move across the keyboard.

 

“Dean?”

 

“I - I’m the one dumpin’ you.”

 

Cass’s heart sank. “You too? Seriously? I thought things were going well, what did I -“ 

 

Dean held up a hand. “No, shit, no, Cass - that ain’t what I meant.” His hand was shaking as he handed Cass’s phone back over and dug his own out of his pocket. He unlocked it and only then did Cass realize just how pale his face really was. He opened an app and held the screen out for Cass to see. 

 

There, in plain text, was his conversation with Impala67. 

 

“Dean?” Cass felt like a broken record, but he didn’t know what else to say. Heat was spreading throughout his entire body and the roaring in his ears was growing louder by the second.  _ This is impossible.  _

 

“I’m Impala67. You’re…  _ you’re  _ FallenAngel34. The dork I’ve been fuckin’ fallin’ in love with for  _ months.”  _

 

Cass paused. “Wait… when you’re phone died that night, that’s what you were trying to tell me. You said ‘I’m imp-‘ but then the call cut out. I had no idea what you meant… you must have figured it out. I was more open with you that night than I had ever been, about my brother and my career. You - why didn’t you remember that?”

 

Dean laughed. It started small, just a strangled bark of a thing, but it quickly grew into something that shook his entire body and echoed off the walls. “I was fuckin’ hammered! I  _ knew  _ I was missin’ something fuckin’ obvious that night but couldn’t place it and I was too damn embarrassed to call back and ask you what it was. Hoooo-ly  _ shit!”  _

 

Joy threatened to split Castiel’s chest in two. He deadpanned, “and yet, you just broke up with me.” 

 

Dean’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he closed the distance between them. “I take it back, return that shit to sender. Musta had a wrong number.” 

 

Cass rolled his eyes yes but could no longer hold back his smile. “Come here.” His hands found Dean’s face and he kissed him deeply, possessively, pouring almost a year’s worth of want and need into that one single act. 

 

Dean hummed as he returned it, and snippets of conversations with Impala flashed through his mind in perfect harmony with the memories of their first night together. 

 

He didn’t have to choose, didn’t have to sacrifice one for the other. They were the same, and they wanted him.  _ Dean  _ wanted him. 

 

And Cass wasn’t letting go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have you know that I wrote this entire fic based solely upon this specific idea for the "reveal." I hope it was worth it! See you all Tuesday for the entirely cheesy finale. I love all of you for sticking with this. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grand finale!

Dean pulled back first, and Cass could swear the only word to describe the sound coming out of his mouth was ‘giggle.’ He grinned widely and the redness blooming in Dean’s cheeks and couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and kissed him again. Gone were any awkward tendencies or nerves that would have once had him holding back. He was Dean, he was Impala - and somehow, the two had merged themselves together into something - some _ one  _ beautiful and stunning and  _ here.  _

 

“I rode in the car you spoke about for months and I didn’t even realize it.” 

 

Dean scoffed playfully. “Yeah, ya dork. How the hell’d you miss that? You’re makin’ fun of me for bein’ too drunk to remember I’d worked it out, but you? What’s your excuse?” 

 

Cass mulled over his answer and realized he didn’t have a good one. “I don’t know, Dean. I suppose that night I was just… distracted. It was dark, and I was more preoccupied with the fact that I’d gotten into a vehicle with a complete stranger to notice the make and model of said vehicle. And you left the motel before me the morning after, so it’s not like I could have seen it then.” 

 

Dean’s face softened. “I wasn’t kiddin’, angel. I couldn’t get that night outta my head. I’ve had my fair share of sex, but that? That was somethin’ entirely different.” 

 

Cass grinned. “You - as Impala, I mean - told me afterwards that you’d met someone but it wasn’t really working out. Was  _ I  _ that someone?” 

 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t really open that app for awhile after that. Couldn’t really stay away from you though, even though I didn’t know it was you at the time.” 

 

“So, you both stopped using and resumed using the app because of me?” 

 

Dean considered that. “Yeah, I mean… I guess. Just didn’t know it was the same person.” He shook his head and laughed again. “Jesus, I still can’t friggen believe it. You shoulda heard me talkin’ to my friend Charlie about which one of  _ you  _ I was gonna pick.” 

 

Cass’s nose crinkled as he laughed. “I didn’t quite have the same struggle, your online persona is considerably more…  _ crass.  _ I couldn’t deny our connection, however, even though I attempted to pass it off as mere friendship. As I stated, I was… hoping you were speaking truly in the note you left at the motel.” 

 

Dean’s gaze flicked across Cass’s face. 

 

“What?” Cass shifted under the scrutiny and balled his hands into protective little fists at his sides. 

 

Dean’s thumb brushed across Cass’s cheekbone just under his eye. “Your eyes are the bluest damn things I’ve ever seen, y’know that?”

 

Cass blushed. “And yours are the greenest.” He leaned up on his toes just enough to kiss the freckles on Dean’s cheek. Fatigue washed over him, the way it often did after he’d have a sudden burst of anxiety. “Will you stay with me?” 

 

Dean’s eyes closed and he nodded. “Yeah, angel. I’ll stay.” 

 

Something inside of Cass relaxed at the words, which only deepened his exhaustion. It was like a year’s worth of tension and uneasiness finally gave way to comfort and warmth. It gave way to  _ Dean. “ _ Thank you.”

 

“Hey, you don’t need to thank me. I wanna spend as much time with you as I can before I gotta leave again.” 

 

And just like that, Castiel was right back to being wound tighter than a guitar string. “Right, of course.” 

 

Dean’s touch became lighter on his skin. “Cass, don’t - don’t do that, don’t focus on me leavin’. Okay? I’m here, I’m right here.” Warm, soft lips planted themselves on Cass’s forehead. 

 

Cass nodded dumbly. “I understand, Dean. Let’s go to bed, we can talk more about that in the morning.” It was a conversation that Castiel never wanted to have, but he knew it was necessary. Dean had a job - a life outside of Montana that couldn’t just be pushed to the side. He’d be gone for weeks, perhaps months at a time, and there was little either of them could do about it. “Just promise me you’ll come back. I’m not sure I could handle you being gone for another year.” 

 

Dean’s arms enveloped him in a hug. It was warm and safe and welcoming in a way very few things in Castiel’s life ever had been. “Angel, I don’t know how long I’m gonna have to be gone. I can look for jobs closer to here, maybe… but I don’t wanna make a promise to you that I can’t keep. What I  _ will  _ promise, is that I’ll be back as soon as humanly possible. That okay?” 

 

Cass nodded against Dean’s chest, letting the scent of his shirt weave it’s way through Cass’s senses until there was nothing else. “Yes, Dean. I can work with that.” 

 

“Good.” Dean’s chest rumbled under Cass’s cheek. “Now c’mon, let’s get you to bed.” 

 

Cass reluctantly pulled out of Dean’s embrace in favor of leading them towards the bedroom. They changed quickly and crawled under the blanket on Cass’s bed, immediately finding each other again. 

 

Cass had lost track of how long they laid in bed that night just talking and stealing kisses. There was none of the fevered rush that Cass had expected, instead it was long, drawn out, patient even. Like they had all the time in the world to learn every inch of each other’s bodies. 

 

Which was all well and good, except for the fact that Cass was so painfully hard it was becoming difficult to focus on what Dean was saying. Some wild, primal need inside of him won out and his hand snaked down Dean’s body to cup his crotch. “Quit talking.” 

 

Dean sucked in a breath and stilled. Cass palmed him through his boxers and kissed him slower this time… deeper. He savored the taste of him, relished the way Dean’s lips met his own and he nearly came unglued when Dean allowed a desperate little noise to travel into his mouth. 

 

He slowly started pushing himself up to hover over Dean, but Dean had different plans. He didn’t make it halfway to his desired vantage point before Dean was moving, flipping them both so Cass landed with a tiny bounce on his back. 

 

“No, angel. This time, I want  _ you  _ to feel  _ me.”  _

 

A mix of lust and panic shot down Cass’s spine right to his toes, but any fear he might have of Dean’s inexperience vanished entirely with each confident flick of Dean’s tongue or brush of his hand. 

 

Dean’s teeth ghosted over his neck. “Is that okay with you?” 

 

Cass’s breath hitched but he nodded quickly, “Yes, Dean.” 

 

Two beautifully rough hands rid him of his boxer briefs, and then Dean’s perfect, wet mouth found its mark. Cass’s back arched off the bed and he barked Dean’s name, the accompanying moan being punched right from his very core. 

 

Cass fumbled blindly in the bedside table’s single drawer for the lubricant, and he practically threw it down to Dean. Cass had bottomed before, but it had been years and he was sure things with Dean would be different; he was almost ashamed at how eager he was to feel Dean stretch him open and fill him up completely. 

 

In the haze of his mind he heard the cap snap open on the bottle of lube, and a few heartbeats later a cool, slick finger was teasing him. It was such a stark contrast to the hot tongue licking every inch of him that he found it extremely hard to focus on just one thing. He let the sensations pull him under and he relaxed, gasping slightly as that finger pressed for entrance moments before another joined it. 

 

He gripped the bedsheets hard enough he feared they’d tear under his balled-up fists, but with each bob of Dean’s head or thrust of his fingers, that possibility bothered him less and less. 

 

Within minutes, he was shaking and stuttering and grabbing almost pathetically at Dean’s head. “Please! Dean, please, I’m - I’m ready!”

 

Dean chuckled with Cass’s cock in his mouth, and then all contact with the man ceased. Cass had been so,  _ so  _ close to the edge that it took him several seconds to realize that his release wasn’t coming. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly in an attempt to bring Dean into focus. He was kneeling between Cass’s legs and lubing up his solid, dripping cock. 

 

Cass bit his lip and reached out for it, replacing Dean’s hand with his own. “Don’t make me wait, Dean. Please.” His voice was wrecked and low, but the plea was laced into every syllable. Dean let out a breathy sigh and dropped forward, bringing one of Cass’s legs with him as he leaned down to kiss him. 

 

It only took a little bit of maneuvering before Dean was sheathing himself inside of Cass, and he was so slow, so careful that Cass wondered if this had been what it had felt like for Dean all those months ago. His hands tangled in Dean’s hair and he fought to keep their mouths together through the moans and mumbled praises as Dean inched himself inside, and then everything but the sound of labored breathing ceased as Dean bottomed out. 

 

“Dean… are you okay?” 

 

“Fu-Jesus, angel, fuck yeah I’m okay. I’m waitin’ on you, you’re so fuckin’ tight I don’t think I could move if you paid me. You sure you were ready for this?”

 

Dean’s head dropped to Cass’s shoulder and Cass wrapped his arms around him. He held him there until their breathing synced and he felt the tension in his body dissipate entirely. He bit Dean’s earlobe which drew a shuddering moan. “Please, Dean. You don’t need to be gentle, I’m not going to break. Thank you for taking it slowly, but I’m good. Please move.”

 

It was like Cass flipped a switch in Dean’s brain. Dean bit hard on Cass’s neck and pulled out until he threatened to leave entirely, and then he slammed back in so hard Cass nearly screamed. Cass dug his fingertips into Dean’s back as he gasped for air as his legs wrapped around Dean’s ass and pulled him forward, urging him to do it again. 

 

Dean took the hint, pressing their bodies together as he fucked into Cass hard enough that the friction on Cass’s trapped cock was more than sufficient. Over and over again Dean sent a rocket of pure bliss through Cass, and all Cass could do was hold on. 

 

Cass tipped first, his nails raking across Dean’s skin so hard he drew blood. “Dean, I’m —“ 

 

“Cum for me, angel. Now.”

 

With one final thrust into Cass, they both let go. It was near silent compared to the build up, but they’d both been lonely and sad for so long that this - finally coming together, finally finding each other - it didn’t need words or sounds or proclamations of love. It was all encompassing and all consuming, and it was  _ theirs.  _

 

They belonged to each other, and something happened that night that changed the course of their lives forever. 

 

They found home. 

 

 

**Two Years Later:**

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Cass nodded, taking one last look at the house he’d lived in for years. The moving trucks were already on their way to Los Angeles, and all that was left to do was drive away. “Yes, I believe so. It’ll be nice, don’t you think? We’ve got a full month to celebrate our honeymoon before the fall semester starts at UCLA, and since Los Angeles is home to one of the largest collections of classic cars in the United States, you shouldn’t have any problem finding work when we return.”

 

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, angel. How many times we gonna go over this?” He kissed Cass quickly and then opened the passenger door to the Impala. 

 

Cass took one last look at his old home and then climbed in. “I just think it’s nice that you won’t be traveling the country anymore. Those weeks without you were… unpleasant.” 

 

“You can say that again, this’ll be the first time since I was a damn toddler that I won’t have to bounce around the whole damn continent. I’m beyond fuckin’ ready for it.” He started the car and backed out of the driveway, and once they hit the road, Cass finally let reality sink in. 

 

_ You married Dean Winchester. You’re starting at one of the best colleges on the west coast in just a few weeks. You’re about to tour the entire world with the love of your life.  _ He looked over at Dean and took his hand, and Dean’s answering smile settled into Cass’s bones like a siren’s song. 

 

_ You did it, Castiel. You’ve won.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed this, I had a blast writing it and I’ve appreciated the feedback from you all more than you know. I’ll be continuing Elevator Music and I’ve got about a million ideas in the works, so I’ll see you all again soon 🖤

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated on Tuesdays and Fridays, opposite Elevator Music. Let me know what you think!


End file.
